


Spider-Man: Origin of the Species

by Weskron



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Bullying, Cannibalism, Cults, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gang Violence, Genetic Engineering, High School, Italian Mafia, Love, Marvel Cameos, Minor Character Death, Romance, Vampire Cults, cross-species
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:58:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 56,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weskron/pseuds/Weskron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Parker is just your average teenaged nerd living in Queens who, after getting bitten by a radioactive spider at a school fair, becomes one of the greatest heroes ever known to man. But, in other, darker corners of New York, a jealous evil begins to stalk our Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man as he learns that with great power, comes great responsibility. (AU, Gwen x Peter)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You know, I don’t believe everything happens for a reason. I can’t think of a reason for half the stuff in my life, and it’s even harder to think of reasons why people have to die for such stupid things. I don’t understand how a God could… justify what he does. I don’t think, if one does exist, that he could. I mean, why do people have to die from a vending machine falling on them or like some crazy guy thinks he has the right to kill someone and does. Sometimes, no, not sometimes… In general, I think the world is just… crazy. I’ve never really been a religious person, but I don’t know if I’m an atheist either. I guess I’m what they call agnostic, leaning more to the side of atheism.

What I do believe in is science. Science has an explanation for everything. I don’t need to… search for a meaning that possibly doesn’t exist, with science, if I want to know something; it’s more than possible to be able to find the answer. The universe itself is an answer, but also a mystery. In a lot of ways, it’s a lot like us. High-school students. Like, to us, our entire existence, puberty, girls, the world, how everything works, it’s all a mystery. But it always seems like older people know us better than we know ourselves-”

And that was when I felt a scrunched-up paper hit my nose. It didn’t hurt, but what did hurt was the laughter that came afterward. I looked out onto the class to see most of them trying to hold in an all out laugh as they watch me hold my nose slightly and gaze out to them with sad eyes.  
I turned to the person who made school suck the most, an athletic teenager with blonde hair stylized in a stupid-looking military cut, known by the name of Flash Thompson. What a dick.

Today is my first day of school as a Junior in highschool. I go to Midtown High, which is a pretty good school to go to. Nice community (for the most part) and it gets a lot of publicity from colleges and businesses alike. Most people who go here go on to have good careers in New York. So I guess… I’m following in their footsteps? Sure. We’ll go with that.

And to give some background on this illustrious reading of mine, over the summer, we were told to write papers for Social Studies telling the class and our teacher our standpoint on life, religion, and what we think of ourselves. Well, I was presenting this very paper when this dickhole decided to throw his own at my nose. I think. I didn’t really look. But he’s enough of a dumbass to do it.

“Mr. Thompson, see me after class,” Our teacher spat out before turning back to me. “Peter, could you please continue?”

I nodded slowly, but grabbed the paper and decided just to skip to the final paragraph to get this over with.

“But anyway, as most of you know, my name is Peter Parker. I like a lot of things, but I don’t think that’s what’s important. What is important to me are the people around me. Like you guys,” I sputtered out the final paragraph, placed the paper on her desk, and sat back down, burying my head in my arms to escape the sideways glances that kept being thrown at me.  
The class went pretty normally, with a few other students presenting their paper. Going off of theirs, I found I might have gone a bit overboard. But that’s just kind of me. I think that I learned to do that when Uncle Ben had to fix the water heater when I was younger, but instead of just doing that, he bought an entirely new one. That had a bit of an impact on me, cause I saw how happy my Aunt was after that.

Well, now that I think about it, maybe he just couldn’t fix it... eh. Whatever.

But uh… you heard me mention that I go to Midtown High. That’s in New York, in Manhattan. But I actually don’t live there. I live in Queens. My whole life has been in New York, and I’ve had the same home in Queens ever since I was a baby. But, sadly, that has also meant I’ve gone to school with this wad, Flash. He’s a jock, through and through. And I’m a nerd. I don’t know if you ever saw Revenge of the Nerds, but jocks and nerds don’t mix. At least until the end. And the sequels. But the sequels are horrible so we don’t talk about that.

In the meantime, I was sitting in the corner with my laptop open, just looking through random things as people finished up their presentations. Some of it was some videos detailing the finishes of some recent wrestling matches that have popped up.

Before I knew it, as I watched a lucha wrestler pin a Japanese one, none of whom I recognized, the class had ended and it was lunchtime. After packing up my laptop and things, I took a look at my schedule. It was English next, so I pretty much don’t do anything for another hour.

I got up, pulling my stuff up along with me, and immediately headed for the door, walking out into the expansive hallways of Midtown High. My locker was actually pretty close by. #616. The hallway of lockers where I am is mostly empty, but there was a few students around. Quiet though. I like quiet.

After opening my locker, I threw my textbook and binder onto the top shelf, organized things so that my stuff for my next class was on top, and then shut it. I let my head rest against the cool metal of the locker for a few moments.

And a short while later, we were having English Class. I didn’t pay a whole lot attention to it as I was tired. I kinda laid my head down on my hand and just sat there, staring at our teacher who was rambling on about something to do with what boosk we’re going to be studying this year. I mean, come on, we have the paper that lists them right here. Why can’t we just read the damn thing?

“Mr. Parker?” I heard my name being called out and my head sprung up.

“Yes, Ma’am?” Clearing my throat, several classmates giggled and the teacher shook her head.

“Are you feeling tired, Mr. Parker? Perhaps you’d like to take a nap on the couch in the principal’s office?” It wasn’t hard to interpret what she meant and I shook my head.

“I’m okay, Ma’am. Thank you, it won’t happen again.”

“I’m sure it won’t, Mr. Parker,” She told me before going back to talking about our upcoming studies of Romeo and Juliet.

I buried my face in my hands. What a rocking way to start off this terrible school year, man. Another day in paradise with Peter Parker.

I should maybe explain.

I haven’t been able to sleep much, really. I’ve tried medication and everything, but nothing works. I know it’ll pass in time, this kind of stuff happens to me at least once or twice a year. It’s the kind of thing where you lie awake at night, thinking about nothing at all. Hell, I was thinking about how kids nowadays could benefit from Hulk Hogan’s son becoming the new hero to our children. A few nights ago, So yeah. Pretty much nothing of note. 

But because of that, a lot of my teachers have been keeping an eye on me. Every year, there’s a student or two that falls asleep in class on a regular basis, and I can already pick up that they believe that I’m that kid this year. And sometimes it’s even gotten close. Please, I really don’t need another thing Flash can rip me a new one with.

Man, look at me. I’m such a wimp. I’m not worried about how sleeping in class could affect my academics, no, I’m worried that a bigger guy could beat me up. I’d love school so much if Flash… was… like, hit by a car or something. And then he was crippled. And then he got sent off to some school for disabled kids.

What? I know that’s mean, but it’s true.

After English, I had one more period to go through. And this was my specialty. I had chemistry. See, pretty much all science was incredibly interesting to me, as I mentioned before. And in a class where I don’t have to hear material that I’ve heard before, and even if I do, I give a damn about it, it doesn’t seem to drag on so much.

I walked into the class and sat down, looking around at all the posters and the sets and every other thing in the school. I was like a little kid, gawking at what would become my favorite class. (Probably)

And then, a few minutes later, the class had started and our obviously bored teacher had begun taking attendance. Thank God. Flash was not in our class. And none of his dumb friends were either.

When I raised my hand to say I was here and to make sure she saw me, I accidentally knocked down a girl named Liz’s binder. I helped pick it up and make sure everything was in shape before handing it back to her when I sat back down to hear another girl’s name being called.

“Gwen Stacy?”

Hm?

“Here.”

I turned to see where the voice was coming from and was kind of… shocked, almost.

I’ve… never seen this girl before. I pretty much knew every one of the students here, so I guess she’s one of the new kids. She had platinum blonde hair that was held together in a ponytail and black headband with very pale skin. But the most striking thing about her was her large blue eyes. Jesus. I could see them even with my terrible eyesight.

She was sitting at her desk, wearing a black skirt, boots, and a blue sweater. I tried to look at Gwen for a little while longer, but she must have sensed it or saw me or something, because she looked over to me afterward. But literally the very second she even tried to make eye contact with me, I turned away and went back to my own business, trying to make it look like I’m really interested in how my pencil bag zipper works.

Yeah, Chemistry might be a little bit harder to focus in than I first thought. But I tried my best while our teacher introduced himself, Mr. Michaels, and told us he would be assigning lab partners and that we would move over the seats we assigned and would stay there until the end of the year. I sighed inwardly, knowing I would get stuck with some lazy asshole who expected me to do all the work, but would always try and politely apologize to me while addressing me as ‘Bro’ or ‘Dude’. (Freshmen year sucked)

“All right… Mark and Fleischer, Mark sit next to Fleischer in the front row… Liz and Derrick… Derrick, why don’t you move over to the seat next to Liz where Peter is,” I grabbed my things and stood up, making room for Derrick at one of the many two person tables in the room, standing awkwardly. Mr. Michaels saw me and immediately went to my name to prevent this situation from getting annoying for me. He flipped to the next page. 

“Oh no. It seems that I don’t have you on my seating chart, Mr. Parker,” Oh great. “Hm…”

Mr. Michaels looked out onto the class and spotted an empty seat. “Ah! Mr. Parker, why don’t you sit in the empty seat over on the right? Next to Ms. Stacy?”

A-ah… oh. Huh?

I looked over to her and watched her head spring up from her notebook as she heard her last name being called out. She looked over to me and we locked eyes for a moment. We probably would’ve stayed like that if not for Mr. Michaels ushering me over to sit down.

I moved over to our table slowly, hearing blurry names being called out behind me as I tried not to make eye contact, even though I knew she was casting a sideward glance toward me as I was able to put my stuff into the slot under the desk. I tapped the edge of the table a few times and breathed out, trying to decide what to do. So I just laid my arms out on the desk, laying my chin in the rest I created for myself as I tried to act as if I was interested in the seating chart, much like the zipper on my pencil bag.

Believe it or not, I’m not very good with women. I don’t have much experience with them, and really… they kind of scare me. Every experience I’ve had with a woman has usually ended in either them trying their hardest to get away from me in some way, shape, or form, or Flash getting mad at me cause I was talking to a girl he wanted to get with.

But, she had decided for me after a while, when the teacher was explaining a pretty standard procedure, piping up with her own awkward sound.

“So…”

My eyes followed her voice to her face, seeing her fiddle with the top of her notebook.

“You’re my new lab partner.”

And her voice… was like a melody. Soft and feminine, but also seemed strong in a lot of ways.

“Oh…”

“Is that bad?”

I needed a second to answer, but I was able to reply to her after a short while. “Yeah, sorry. I just uh… Yeah. I’m fine. I mean it’s fine. Er… damn. Sorry.”

“That’s good,” She smiled. “Well uh…” She put out her hand for a shake. “Gwen Stacy. Nice to meet you. You’re Peter right?”

I was too busy staring at her to shake her hand, and she awkwardly put it back on her notebook. I put my hand behind my head, resting it on my neck.

“Oh. Yeah. Nice to meet you too. I’m Peter. Peter Parker,”

We stayed quiet for a while until the teacher told us to get to know each other while he sent the attendance report down to the main office. Class was nearly over anyhow, so he might as well just take up the rest of the time. And it seems like he will, as I swear I heard the sound of a video coming from his computer before he put in his headphones.

“So Peter?”

I looked to her and she was closing her notebook. “How was your summer?”

I shrugged. “Lazy, to be honest. Yours?”

“I spent most of my summer moving to Manhattan,” She said.

“Oh? Where’d you come from? Er… I mean, like… where’d you live before here?” I fumbled over my words and she giggled.

No, that laugh was a melody. Her voice was just like… a drum roll for it or whatever. I think there’s something there. I’ll flesh that out a bit more before coming back to it.

“New Jersey. My Dad is working as Chief of Police for New York now, so, we moved to Manhattan and here I am. It’s a pretty short story, really,” She shrugged. “How about you?”

I sat up straight. “Well, I’ve always lived here. I’ve grown up in Queens, all my life. I live with my Aunt and Uncle there.”

“Where are your parents?”

I looked away. “Uh… I don’t know.”

She looked terrified for a moment. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Tch. It’s fine,”

And the bell rang. We grabbed our stuff and stood up.

“Well I’ll uh… I’ll talk to you later, okay?” She told me and walked past me, then out the door.

“I… yeah. You too.”

~

Sometime later in the day, I’m sitting on a desk, waiting for the day to end in a few minutes, when our homeroom teacher, Ms. Grant, stands up and gets our attention.

“As all of you know, The Community Fair is in two days, a lot earlier this year. Remember to bring money and at 12:00, we’re going into the gym for the Oscorp Scholarship Presentation,” She announced and then received a collective groan. “Oh suck it up. We’re taking attendance, so remember to show up.”

The bell rang and I was one of the first ones out the door. I headed to my locker, hoping to spot that girl I saw earlier today, but I wasn’t able to. So I just grabbed my backpack, shut the locker, and walked to the front door of the school.

“Hey Parker!”

Aw come on.

I turned to see Flash behind me, smiling. Hate that damn smile.  
“Parker, someone told me that you’ve been talking up Liz,” Flash saunters over to me, still smiling. Something tells me no one told him anything about his girlfriend. “What’s up with that, man?”

I groan, trying to move away as I slightly turn my head to address him. “Flash, I haven’t even said like… three words to Liz this entire year.”

“Parker…”

Flash grabs my shoulder, and then clumsily shoves me into a row of lockers nearby. He then grips my sweatshirt in either hand, now clenching his teeth in what seems to be a mixture of anger and excitement. I knew that look. That’s the ‘I want to kick your ass’ look. And guess what usually happens after he gives me that look? Yep. You guessed it. He kicks my ass.

“D-dude, just lay off of me, all right?” I was now glancing quickly from him to the crowd that was gathering around us. Hopefully a teacher got here soon, cause I can already feel his arm moving back. It’s most likely he’s going to punch me.

Flash laughs slightly, instead of punching me, he shoves my shoulder harder into the locker. “Lay off you? Lay off my girl, Parker!”

And then came the punch. Straight across the cheek, down into the jaw. A messy strike. I’ve become used to them over the years. They’re just another part of life at this point. Isn’t that really depressing? And you know what? I’m really, really tired of it. I’m tired of being scared.

So I did something stupid. I shoved him off of me. It was really all I could have done at this point; I could not have been able to punch him, my whole body was against the locker. Well, I could have, but it would have been so soft that he wouldn’t even notice.

But my shove did enough of the trick. He was shocked. He wasn’t used to me fighting back. I looked out onto the crowd, who seemed to be furiously whispering to each other. And I swore, really, that I saw that platinum blonde hair that caught my eye earlier toda-

OOF!

Of course, a split second of embarrassment didn’t scare him off, so he rushed forward, shoulder-checking me back into the row of lockers, cutting off all thoughts as my head bounced off against the metal, causing a slight dent. Immediately, I fell to my knees, then slumped over onto my right hand.

“Mr. Thompson!” I heard a high-pitched, older voice yell. I knew it was some teacher at this point. Took her long enough to get here.

After a lot of yelling, groaning, and what seemed to be nervous shuffling, before I knew it, the crowd had dissipated. And I was alone, sitting on my ass as I felt a ringing in my ears and the bulbs of light disappeared from my eyes. I don’t think I’ve been hit like that for a while. That’s something I was used to. While teachers really don’t like Flash, they don’t like me all too much either for some reason. Never understood why, but that’s how it is. So they really didn’t bother to say ‘Hey champ, nurse is down the hall’. No one really does care enough to, anyway.

“Peter?”

But I did hear someone talking. So I turned to where I thought the voice was coming from to see the big blue eyes I had seen earlier. Pale skin. Blonde hair. Black headband. Yeah. This… It’s Gwen.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

And there was her voice again.

“I uh… um…”

She frowned slightly, crouching down onto her haunches, and putting a hand on my knee. “Let’s go to the nurse.”

It took me a second to register what she was saying, but I shook my head and stood up. “I’m okay, really. Just a little… I’unno, shocked or whatever.”

“You sure?”

I nodded. I looked down to her eyes. I found she was actually a bit shorter than I was, standing at only a bit taller than my shoulder. “Peter, right? We’re lab partners.”

She almost seemed like she was confirming it for me. She already knew my name and that we were partners. Er… at least I think she does. I hope she does.

“Uh, yeah. Peter Williams, that’s my name,” I replied, putting my hands in my pockets. She giggled.

“Well, obviously we need to make introductions once again, Mr. Williams. My name’s Gwen Stacy,” She put out her hand for a shake, like she did earlier. “Nice to meet you.”

“Why’s your hand out there?”

She rolled her eyes at me taking the joke probably a bit too far. Then she hefted her bag up again, looking at me.

“Go to the nurse, okay? I’ll be checking up on you tomorrow,” She began to walk away. “Okay?”

“Huh? Oh. Uh. Yeah. Yeah I will,” I began to wave, but decided better of it, as she had already walked out the front door.

Wow.


	2. Aunt May's Cooking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has some good ol' bonding time with the family.

After a quick stop by the nurse’s office, I took the metro back to Queens, New York. That’s where I live, by the way, if I didn’t mention it before. I might’ve. I don’t remember. But it’s a nice place to live, the closest thing you can get to a small town in the city.

So yeah, that’s me. A small town boy from Queens. Isn’t that the contradiction of the century?

But yeah, I finally arrived at my home about twenty minutes after I left the school. It’s a nice place. Two floors and a basement, three bathrooms, and I jogged up the steps, opening the door and barging right in to be greeted by my Aunt.

See, I wasn’t exactly normal in my family situation. I lived with my Uncle Ben and Aunt May. The reason why is my parents left me at their doorstep when I was very small, but they never really gave me a reason as to why. I don’t know if I’ll ever really know, but it’s fine. Really, it is.

“Peter? Oh, good. Here, I’ve dished up some lasagna for you,” She yelled behind her shoulder, washing her hands as she finished up dinner.

“Thanks,” I grabbed the plate of food on the kitchen counter before trying to retreat back upstairs.

“How was school?”

Yet to no avail.

I had to hide my groan. I really wasn’t in the mood to talk about my day or any other kind of thing. “Uh… fine,”

“Anything interesting happen?” She asked, wiping her hands off.

I began to head up the stairs. “Nope.”

“Ah… Peter? We’re eating dinner at seven, okay?”

I nodded to myself, grunting a sound of affirmation before walking into my room and shutting the door. With my hands full, I use my foot to lock the door before sitting down on my bed.

I ate quietly, thinking about putting on a video or something, but my mind could only wander about Gwen. Time passed as I thought. Quite a bit of time. I always loved the sound of my own thoughts. And voice. At least, that’s what Aunt May tells me.

Gwen.

What a cute name.

I know I sound sappy, but… I don’t know what it is, but I am just… interested in her. And from my… one interaction with her, she seems nice. I think. I hope.

Oh man, I really hope she’s not into sports. Cause that would ruin it all. Cause then she has to be friends with Liz. Which means she’s friends with Flash. So then I die of heartbreak, then everyone dies. At least to me.

So yeah, everything will be dead. Anyway.

So at this point, I had gotten onto my laptop, and, being a little bit… curious, let’s say, I searched Gwen Stacy up on my computer. And to my surprise, a few relevant results came up.

After a bit of a read, I saw that Gwen was actually featured in a few articles for her work in science. (Yes! She’s not a jock!) Nothing too big, really, but impressive for her age. And now… Oh. Wow. Now she’s an intern for Doctor Otto Gunther Octavius who… apparently works at Empire State University with his wife.

I began to think out loud, leaning back on my chair. “Doctor Octavius… I think I know the name…”

And with a quick search through my school email, I found that the school knew of him too. Because his new research is being funded by him and he’s used often in consulting for the company, he’s the representative for Oscorp that’s going to be coming to the school tomorrow.

And with another google search, I checked to make sure that he is the same person as I was thinking. Yeah, Dr. Octavius. There’s not a lot on his family or early life, really. Or… anything about his personal life. Like his Wikipedia page is almost barren other than his father was harsh on him and he really loved his mother, who passed away several years ago. Hm.

Man, this guy makes me feel like a slouch. He went to college when he was fourteen; he’s got a master’s in engineering, and a doctorate in biology. And… Huh. His picture’s a bit odd, really. Kind of a pudgy guy with a bowl cut and a bit of stubble, with large round glasses. I know quite a lot of his work, as he is a big name in science nowadays, but he’s a whole lot different than I pictured him. He sort of looks like a… mad scientist would.

I finished my search

“Peter?”

Finally I was pulled out of my own thoughts as I heard my Uncle’s voice at the door. I was still in my school clothes, my backpack was not unpacked, and my lasagna was half-eaten. Almost as if I was stuck in time for an hour or two after school.

“Peter? Are you awake?"

“I uh… Be right there!” I muttered before ripping my jacket off and throwing my backpack on the corner of my desk.

I took a breath and opened the door, seeing Uncle Ben waiting outside in the hallway.

“Hey Pete. Dinner will be ready in five.”

It’s already almost seven? What?

But, before I could really give that any thought, Uncle was walking around in my room, taking a look at everything.

“Haven’t been here for a while…” Uncle Ben murmurs. “When’d you start listening to rock music?”

“A couple years ago,” I told him, sitting down at my desk.

“Huh. Well uh…” Uncle Ben sits down on my bed with a grunt. “What’s been going on at school? New year huh?”

“Not much,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

Uncle Ben nods, as this is a usual routine for us. “Cool… ah… cool.”

“Mmhm.”

Uncle Ben pats his knees. “So, what’s going on with the girl situation?”

“Girl situation?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah… you know, you’ve never really been great with girls…”

I continued looking at him.

“I uh… okay. You know I’ve never really been… good with words, Pete. But I know you’re getting to that age and…”

I smiled. “Uncle Ben? Are you trying to have a ‘Birds and the Bees’ talk with me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, pretty much,” He told me blankly and I laughed. My Uncle is sometimes pretty funny.

“Well doesn’t it usually start out with ‘When a mommy and a daddy love each other very much…’?”

Uncle Ben glared at me. “You can’t start it like that. Not when your son is a smart ass.”

I laughed again, this time for longer. I was even able to get a chuckle out of my Uncle as well. I was also even a bit happy that he called me his son. Until a couple years ago, he’d always call me his nephew.

“Look, Uncle Ben, we have health class at school. I know what’s up,” I told him and he nodded.

“Good, but we have something else to talk about,” He cleared his throat again. “Your birthday’s in six days.”

Oh. Right. I forgot.

Holy balls, I actually forgot? Like… that is the saddest thing that I’ve realized in a while.

“Oh. Yeah.”

Uncle Ben smiled warmly. “Did you forget again?”

“Again?”

“Oh yes. Every year we have the same conversation. You always forget your birthday’s soon. Ever since you were eight years old,” Uncle Ben has to chuckle to himself at the thought and I’m left shocked.

“Six days… wow. Seventeen in almost a week,” I murmured to myself.

“So what would you like this year?” He asks me.

Now I had to think for a moment. What do I want? A car’s impractical, really. I take the bus or the metro everywhere anyway, and if I really need to get somewhere quickly, I can use my bike. I already have a phone, I’ve got a computer. I have all of the game systems I want… I uh… I’m actually not sure. I don’t know if I want anything right now.

“I… don’t know,” I told him and he nodded.

“I figured as much,” He tapped his chin for a moment before standing up. “Okay, we’ll surprise you with something. But in the meantime, wash your hands. Dinner’s ready by now.”

I nodded and he patted me on the shoulder before walking down the stairs. Before too long, I washed my hands and had bounded downstairs to eat a dinner of most likely steaks and salad.

“Take a seat, I’m dishing up for you guys,” Aunt May said as she placed Uncle Ben’s plate in front of him.

I nodded and sat down across from where Aunt May usually sits, next to Uncle Ben, who was at the head of the table. He was already picking at his food, but Aunt May gave him a little look, so he placed his fork down and waited for everyone to get their food.

And soon enough they did and the family got down to eating. I kind of noticed that Aunt May met eyes with Uncle Ben a few times, but he shook his head. I didn’t pay it much mind; they always have this secret parent code that I’ve never been able to pick up.

After a bit of small talk, I headed off to my room and after doing some random things, I went to bed, actually sleeping well for the first time in a while.

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Along Came A Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every hero has his origin story. This one begins with a spider.

_Bdeep! Bdeep! Bdeeeeee-_

My eyes fluttered open as my alarm on my phone began to go off. I groaned slightly, grabbing my phone and turning it off to stop the incessant noise and laid back on my bed, looking up at the ceiling and stretching out.

I didn’t waste much time, I got up and grabbed some clothes out of my closet, got changed into them, then did the whole morning routine. You know, brushing my teeth, deodorant, hair, and etcetera.

As I walked out and grabbed my phone from my sidetable, I put it in my pocket and grabbed my wallet, remembering that the school fair is today.

All right, Peter Parker. Let’s just have… a good day for once. A perfectly good one.

So I opened my door and walked down the stairs to see Aunt May in the living room, handing my Uncle a glass of orange juice as he put his shoes down in front of him to put them on. In her other hand, she was holding another one, probably for me. I hit the bottom step and Aunt May turned to me and pushed the glass towards me. As she did, I heard the buh-ding of the toaster.

“Morning, honey. How’d you sleep?” Aunt May asked, already walking to the kitchen.

I took a sip of the juice, watching the television as I spoke, “Pretty well.”

She looked surprised. “Oh. Well good. Sit down, I’m getting some toast for you guys.”

I looked at Uncle Ben who had just finished up with his shoes, but was still watching the television. The morning show had a picture of a shady looking guy with a brown ski-mask and yellow jacket getting into a car. At the bottom, there was a label to the man, which said ‘Herman Schultz’.

“You hear of this Herman Schultz guy?” Uncle Ben asks me and I shake my head.

“Nah, who is he?”

Uncle Ben points at the television idly. “Some thug who’s been claiming on the internet that he’s going to make a mad-dash for military-grade weapons soon. And now people are getting scared,”

“Oh. Like… bombs and stuff?” I frowned.

“Maybe. But he actually hasn’t done anything yet. They say that other gangs think this is a joke.”

I smirked. “A practical joke? What a funny guy.”

“Not like that. Like they don’t take it seriously. There was one guy who said Herman’s crew are a bunch of kids who are mad at their parents. If that’s true, I think their asses won’t stand a chance in a firefight. So no one’s really worried, I don’t think.”

“Ben!” Aunt May’s voice rings from the kitchen.

“Sorry. Their ‘butts’ won’t stand a chance in a firefight,”

Uncle Ben stood up, turning the television off and adjusting his jacket.

He sighed. “People are getting crazier and crazier nowadays.”

I thought about this for a moment before standing up myself, putting my now-empty cup on the coffee table. I walked over and grabbed my jacket from the coat hanger, putting it on as Uncle Ben grabbed his wallet and phone.

“All right, your Aunt can’t come to the fair today because she couldn’t take off work, so I’m coming today,” He walked past me to grab his keys, patting me on the shoulder as he did so. “Don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you too much. I’ll stay out of the way, mostly.”

I rolled my eyes before Aunt May handed me and Ben a piece of toast, nearly pushing us out the door. “Go, you’re already going to be late, and I have to get ready.”

I wanted to tell her that we didn’t need to be there at our usual time, hell, I doubt it would have been that big of a deal to not show up, but I decided better of arguing with my Aunt. I nodded and gave her a hug and Uncle Ben kissed her on the cheek. Then I grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder.

“Okay you two. Be safe. Call me or text me when you’re done, all right?”

“We will. See ya,” Uncle Ben said to her.

I put my hands in my hoodie pockets when Uncle Ben turned to me.

“Do we have to go to the Oscorp Presentation this year?” He asked and I nodded. “Ah. Great.”

“Oh come on, it’ll be cool this year,” I told him.

Uncle Ben shakes his head. “Maybe for you, I’ve never been interested by science.”

I looked out at the sky for a second, seeing a mostly blue sky, “I don’t know. I have a good feeling about it.”

~

90% of these booths look like they’re going to break down at any second.

Yeah, we’re at the Community School Fair at the moment. Most of the fair was held on the school field, but I think the Oscorp Scholarship Presentation is in the gymnasium. It was actually quite an affair, really. There was a huge mural from the art club, I think. And uh… there was a lot of food that people were making. Good stuff, too. Well, it looked good at least.

We arrived in the thick of things and were a bit overwhelmed. There were so many people it almost became hard to just get around. A ton of booths and a lot of decorations too. They went all out. The clubs and student council must’ve worked over the summer to do this, really.

My Uncle was the first to say anything as we moved through the increasingly growing crowds of people.

“Are you going to join a club this year?” He asked, looking back at the booth for The Writing Club.

“Ah… maybe. I’unno. Maybe if they got a science club or something,” I replied, looking around at the different attractions.

He looked at a booth near us, pointing it out to me. “Don’t you like photography?”

I nodded. “Yeah but uh… Eh. I don’t really like doing it as a group activity.”

Uncle Ben shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

We went for a bit longer, Uncle Ben ended up buying me a shirt that had Midtown High on it for no real reason. I stuffed it in my backpack and looked over to see Uncle Ben scanning the rows of food-related booths.

“Ooh, a teriyaki stand,” He remarked and looked to me. “Hungry?”

I barely heard him over the yelling teenagers and generic music being played in the background. “Huh?”

“Are you hungry?” He asked again, a bit louder.

I took a second to think about it, but as I smelled it, my stomach growled. I guess the toast and juice wasn’t enough. So I nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I could eat.”

After agreeing on teriyaki, we made our way over and we both got ourselves a serving of it in a small white box. We both ate and walked over, looking around some more at the sites. The more we looked, the more impressive everything was.

And then I was pulled out of it when Ben poked me with his elbow to get my attention. “Hey Pete, look, a science club.’

Uncle Ben pointed the booth out to me with his fork and I followed the prongs of the fork to see a smaller blue booth with a few small attractions, and a piece of plasterboard with various pictures and facts on it. But that really wasn’t all too interesting, the thing that immediately grabbed my attention was the person manning the booth.

“Gwen…?” I murmured to myself and my Uncle looked up at me.

“You know her?” He asked.

“Uh… yeah. She’s a friend.”

Uncle Ben smirked, going back to his food for a moment, looking at her with me. “She’s cute.”

I looked at him. “Huh? Oh. I’m not… Uncle Ben, she’s just-”

“You don’t need to justify it to me, son,” Uncle Ben chuckled, nodding his head.”

I sighed and shook my head. Then I turned back and looked at her for a moment longer before my Uncle spoke up.

“Well, go talk to her.”

“What? Oh. Oh no. I uh-I can’t do… like… that’d be weird.”

Uncle Ben rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, I’ll meet up with you after the presentation. We’ll meet right outside the… ah, where’s it being held?”

“The gym,” I pointed it out to him.

“Ah, all right. There, see the door? We’ll meet right there after it. Then we can go home,” He patted me on the shoulder, “Have fun.”

“See ya,” I waved with my fork and then looked back to see Gwen looking at me, but she turned away quickly.

All right, Peter. Let’s uh… woofh… Let’s just do it. Pull it off like a Band-Aid, right? Just-Just go for it.

So I walked over, almost with a skip in my step as I pushed through the crowds to get to the science club booth where Gwen was waiting, looking at something else. I stood there for a moment before clearing my throat, when she span around to see me.

“Uh… hey,” I said.

“Hey.”

I picked at my food, looking at the booth, “So… you’re in the science club already, huh?”

Gwen looked at her feet for a moment, smiling as she took a stray strand of hair and put it behind her ear, “I uh… yeah.”

“I uh, I don’t remember one being here last year. If there was, I would have joined,” I said, placing my now almost-finished food on the counter of the booth.

“That’s cause there wasn’t…” She said, “When I moved here and enrolled, they were telling me about clubs and I was like ‘Hey, is there a science club?’ and they said no so I offered to run one if they’d let me. And they were like ‘Well, I don’t see why not’, so then I just… Uh… sorry, I’m rambling. Um…”

I was grinning at her when she stopped talking. She blushed red, taking that same stray strand of hair that had somehow gotten free and moved it behind her ear again.

“No, go on. It was just getting interesting,” I told her and she rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. But I’m running the science club now,” She told me.

“Oh. Don’t you have to, like, make sure the Oscorp Presentation thingy is all good?” I asked her and she frowned at me, “What?”

“How did you know I work with Oscorp?” She asked.

Oh… ah... uh-oh.

I tried to shrug it off. “Umm… pffh… you know, it’s like I just… heard it through the ol’ grapevine.”

“Uhuh. Which grapevine was that, hm?” She was now leaning on the counter, looking up at me as she tried to hold a laugh in.

I blew out a deep breath. “Ya know… Google.”

She finally let out a laugh. “You actually googled me?”

“I was just curious. Like… you never know if you could be fraternizing with a serial killer, man,” She laughed again. Okay. Well. I’m doing something right.

Gwen smiled at the floor and then looked up at me. We met eyes for a moment, just a split second, but… I don’t know what it is, but I’ve known her for a few days and we’ve talked a few times, but every time I’m near her or I think about her my heart just starts racing and I kind of want to smile too.

But I was pulled out of my head yet again by seeing her pull out her phone and go to her search engine. “Well, fair’s fair. If you googled me, I might as well google you. Are you a serial killer, Mr. Parker? Let’s find out.”

I’m grinning again as she searches my name. “Well… I’m fairly certain you’re not an overweight carpenter who lives in Alabama. But there’s no record of your murders here. Or is ‘Peter Parker’ just a fake name to get by, Peter? If that is your real name.”

We both burst out laughing at our kind of dumb back-and-forth, but we’re able to calm down a little bit.

“Cool if I hang out here?” I asked her and she nodded in response. So I leaned back on the booth, surprised to see that it didn’t fall over, and I looked out onto the fair with her.

Gwen piped up eventually. “Shouldn’t really be surprised, you don’t have the muscle to be a serial killer.”

I snickered. “What do you think serial killers are? They’re not body-builders for God’s sake!”

We both laughed at that. We were quickly becoming friendly with each other.

…

Not… not that kind of friendly. Like legitimate friendly. I know what you were thinking. Or maybe that’s just me.

“Still. You couldn’t stab a knife into someone, let alone try and hide a body,” She mused.

“Who says I have to use a knife? I could use a gun,” I shot back, pointing my fork at her.

“Shooting a pistol? With those arms? Sure,” She smirked and I shook my head in response.

“A lot of my victims used to say that. Look where they are now. Exactly. You can’t. Cause they’re not here anymore,” I laughed. “Man, this conversation got dark quick.”

After our short-back-and-forth, I took a good look at the booth across from hers. There was a typical carnival-like game where you have to use a mini-cannon filled with baseballs and try to knock over a pyramid of small cups. I looked at it, then to Gwen, then back to it again before sticking my fork in the small paper box and setting it on the counter.

“Watch, I’ll give you a small demonstration of my hardened, cold killing skills.”

Gwen raised an eyebrow at me as I sauntered over to the booth, Flash-style, and put two dollars on the table as the fair.

“Hey, could I get a game?” The student running the booth nodded in response, loading up three baseballs.

“You ready?” I cast a short glance over my shoulder.

“As I’ll ever be.”

I grabbed the rods at the side, feeling the weight of the mini-cannon as I looked at the pyramid of cups about five feet away. They were pretty small, really.

Oop! Dammit!

I accidentally pressed the button on the backside of the rod, causing a baseball to shoot off into nothing. I grimaced and looked back, seeing Gwen trying to suppress a laugh. I sighed in response and turned back to the cannon.

Taking a few seconds, I shot my first legitimate ball, missing it by quite a long way’s away. I swore and then got ready for my final shot, crouching down low, using the barrel’s length as my scope as I aimed it.

I noticed that the cannon wasn’t very powerful, obviously a not-very-well-put-together air-powered cannon. But because of the lack of force, it would veer downwards if you shot it. So you can’t shoot it straightforward to hit the cups. The trick isn’t having good aim… it’s just being smart about it. If that’s even a trick… well, whatever.

So I aimed it slightly above the top cup and shot my final baseball, hitting the base of the pyramid, and knocking all the cups over. I immediately shot up to my feet, putting my hands up in the air in triumph. The student running the booth grabbed a stuffed animal baby shark that was about the size of my forearm. I thanked him for the game and walked back to Gwen to see her clapping slowly.

“Well done. You’ve now proven you have the ability to be a serial killer. Creep.”

I chuckled, but looked at the baby shark in my hand. After thinking about it for a few seconds, I handed it to her.

“There. Now you can always remember how I could come after you in the dark hours of the night,” I smirked.

She almost looked taken aback by the gift. She looked it while holding it in both hands, smiling faintly before putting it in her purse. She looked back up at me with a now full-on smile.

“Thanks, Peter,” She said.

“Hey, don’t mention it,” I told her.

I decided it would be a good time to throw the trash of my food away. When I came back, Gwen decided to speak up again.

“But, if you must know, to return to what we were talking about before the whole you-being-creepy-and-googling-me-thing, I do actually have to go help Dr. Octavius and Dr. Smythe set up in like…” She quickly took out her phone and checked the time, “Ten minutes. They were nice enough to allow me to do the booth.”

“Dr. Smythe? I haven’t heard of him. What does he do?” I asked.

“Dr. Smythe is an engineer. He’s Dr. Octavius’s partner. I’m not an intern for him, only Octavius, so I don’t really know him that well, but they’re both good friends, so Oscorp asked them to do the whole presentation today,” She explained, “And I am their slave monkey, so, I kind of have to help.”

I tapped the table for a moment, nodding my head before looking over to see the signup sheet for the science club. Gwen saw where I was looking and tried to grab the clipboard, but I was faster, and grabbed it in time. I scanned the signup sheet for names only to find that no one had even made a mark on the page yet.

“So…” I leaned on the booth. “I take it you are the only member of the science club so far?”

Gwen sighed, but eventually nodded, “Yeah, not many people are… all that excited about science nowadays.”

I smirked, grabbed the pen hanging off the clipboard and set it down, writing my name and grade on the page as the first person toe sign up. I put the pen down.

“Well, now there’s two,” I told her.

Gwen just smiled at me.

I decided that this was good a time as any to try my luck, “You know… as fellow club presidents of the science club-”

“Fellow club president?” She asked.

“Fellow club president,” I affirmed her of my role, “I think we should exchange… ah… contact information, yes, just in case you know, we make a breakthrough in the realm of science.”

Gwen blushed and turned her eyes to the counter, before looking back up and shaking her head no, “I think that might uh… that might work out for the both of us. Strictly on a professional level, of course.”

“Strictly, yes,” We were both grinning before we gave each other our numbers.

“Okay, I actually have to go,” She said and stood up straight, grabbing her bag in the process, “You should uh… swing by after the presentation. I’ll introduce you to the good doctors.”

I rubbed my hands together as she walked out the booth, calling after her, “Yeah, yeah. That sounds like fun. I’ll be there.”

Man. That went extremely well. So well, in fact, that as I left to go to the gymnasium to check out the presentation, I started with a skip in my step. And yes, I still hold my manhood intact.

~

Gwen Stacy, now wearing her Oscorp nametag, walked into the parking lot of the school, looking to speak with the three doctors who are standing next to a large white van with the Oscorp logo on either side of it. She heard Dr. Octavius try to get a word out, along with his partner.

“Michael, I… yes, I know. Yes. But we’re not ready to move ahead yet. Y-yes, theoretically we could, but-”

Smythe motioned for his friend to stop as he jumps in, “What Dr. Octavius is trying to say is that our research is critical enough, let us take our times with it.”

“I am aware, Dr. Smythe, and we are willing to give you this, as long as you comply with the terms I have laid out for you. I’m not trying to strong-arm you into anything, I just need to know you’re going to follow through.”

“I…”

Gwen moved slowly forward before deciding to tap her employer, Dr. Octavius, on the shoulder.. “Hello? Dr. Octavius?”

The doctors turn to her, with Octavius and Smythe giving her a polite smile. She then noticed the third doctor standing there, a man with a hawk-like face, pale skin, and slightly receding black hair. He stays stone-faced as he turned his attention to her.

“Ah, Gwen, you’re here to help with the presentation, yes?” Dr. Octavius asks, allowing Gwen to nod her head in affirmation.

Octavius looked from Gwen back to the third doctor.

“Ah! Where are my manners? Gwen, meet Dr. Michael Morbius. He’s a researcher from Oscorp who is overseeing our research for the time being. He’s helping out with the presentation today, speaking specifically about The Genetics Department of Oscorp.”

Dr. Morbius reached out his hand and Gwen shook it firmly and he retracted it quickly with a faint smile, “Nice to meet you, Ms. Stacy. Octavius speaks highly of you, as you must know.”

“Thank you, Dr. Morbius,” Gwen smiled politely in turn.

Octavius made his way back into the conversation, “Yes, yes. Now, regarding the presentation, it’s good of you to come like I had asked, but uh… I believe our crew has set up most of everything...”

“Perhaps she could wait near the stage for us. We just have to finish up our conversation with Dr. Morbius and-”

“I think I’ve said all that I need to say, Dr. Smythe. However, I do have something for Gwen Stacy to help out with, if you don’t mind, Dr. Octavius?” Dr. Morbius looked to Dr. Octavius.

He shook his head, “Of course she can help, she just has to be there for the presentation.”

Michael Morbius nodded his head once, “I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then Gwen, would you be so kind to help out our friend, Dr. Morbius?” Dr. Octavius asks.

“Sure, I can help out. What do you need?”

Dr. Octavius and Dr. Smythe filed out silently to the gymnasium, speaking softly as Dr. Morbius pointed to the trunk of the Oscorp van, “In there is a large glass container with four spiders inside. If you could, take the container inside to the stage? It’s part of the presentation.”

“Of course, Dr. Smythe. I’ll be right on it,” Gwen said.

Dr. Smythe thanked her, “Now, I really must be getting to the stage. I’ll see you inside.”

Michael Morbius left to go to the gymnasium when she finally decided to look into the back of the van. The floor of it was carpeted, with a few indents of other containers, but there was only one left. She grabbed and pulled it toward her, setting it on the edge of the trunk. She looked to see three spiders crawling about inside.

“I thought he said there were four…” She frowned for a moment and tried to think back on what he said before shrugging, “Well, he probably just got it wrong.”

Gwen took the container out and closed the van, grabbing it once more and taking it inside.

But while she did, a spider crawled out from under the van…

~

Woah. This scholarship presentation is a science geek’s paradise.

In one half of the gym, there were three sets of bleachers and rows of chairs in front of them, surrounding a stage that had various scientific equipment and several display cases. On the other side of the gym, it looked like there was almost a science fair made entirely by Oscorp Scientists. There were displays, posters, cases of various animals, there was even a movie playing in one corner of the place. There were various decorations and other things that were on the walls, including posters involving Oscorp in some way or another. There was a cool little hologram placed in the entrance that told whoever was entering that they were welcome to the Oscorp Scholarship Presentation. I thought it was nifty. It was hard to think about how everyone got this together. Oscorp must have some pretty capable strongmen, damn.

This was amazing to me. I missed last year’s presentation because I was home sick, but I heard a lot of cool things about it. But it was a lot better than most people said it was. Top of the line research that is being displayed just for our benefit. Man. We live in a cool time.

The place was already packed with students and faculty who were all milling about. I noticed that as I was leaving the fair, there were quite a few less people milling about, I guess this is where they all went. And who could blame them? There were literally talking lizards there! Well, sort of. There was a device on a few lizards’ heads that interpreted its thoughts and what was going on in its brain out loud. So technically, the device was talking, but still. It was cool.

There was a lot of other stuff there too, like an interface where you could move around a prosthetic arm. Seemed like it could come in handy, really. Heh. Ahhh… get it? Handy? Prosthetic arm? Eh? …Ahem. Okay.

But as I was making stupid puns in my head, I heard someone yell something at me.

“Hey kid, move out of the way, will ya?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard an angrier voice than the one that was yelling at me to move out of the way of the prosthetic hand’s interface.

Of course, I stepped aside, and I looked over to see a man with a mustache and black hair that was graying on the sides. He was wearing a vest, a collared shirt, and a tie, yet still somehow managed to look unkempt in his appearance. I swear I knew him, but I couldn’t put a finger on it. He was holding a large black camera and was taking a picture of the case that the hand was inside.

“Sorry, Sir,” I muttered.

The man grumbled his response, taking a few more pictures before taking a look at his product. He looked at his watch and then the caera, grunting. I couldn’t tell if the look on his face was disgust or if that’s how it normally looked. Maybe a little bit from column A and a little bit from column B.

Then I noticed him turn to me, looking at the camera hanging from my backpack. He eyed me up for a moment.

“What’s your name, kid?” He asked.

“Ah, Peter. Peter Parker,” I told him.

The man looked at me again, and then to my camera, “You a photographer, Parker?”

I shrugged, “I dabble in it.”

He frowned, his voice slightly rising, “Dabble in it? Do you take pictures or not?”

“Sorry, yeah. Yep. I do.”

The man stepped forward and grabbed my hand, shaking it, “My name’s J. Jonah Jameson. You can call me Jameson.”

“Hey, nice to meet you,” It really wasn’t all too nice.

Jameson looked at my backpack and then to me, “You have a pen?”

“Mmhm,” I gave him a pen and he grabbed a notepad from his back pocket, ripping a page out and writing down an email address. He handed the paper to me.

“How about you take a few pictures each of all the attractions here and send them to me. If you do, I’ll give you a little something in return,” He offered.

My eyes slightly widened. Doing something for… money? Like a job? I… wow. Ah… wow.

“Y-yeah. Sounds good,” I replied and then looked at the email address.

“You got a PayPal, kid?” He asked and I nodded in turn.

“Good. I expect to see them by the end of the day, Parker. Give me your PayPal too, so I can send some money your way.”

“Okay, Sir. Thank you,” He was already walking away.

So, for the rest of my time at the event, rather than nerding out on everything there, I took pictures of everything I could find. It took me about half an hour to take three good, well-taken pictures, and then I found a corner, plugged my camera into my laptop, downloaded the photos, and sent them to the address along with my PayPal.

I just… I just literally worked for money. That felt weird.

As I was marveling at my handiwork, a voice came over the gym intercom.

“Students and faculty, please take a seat. The presentation is about to begin,” The nasally voice akin-to-an-adult-Steve-Urkel announced.

As it ordered, I moved over to the other half of the gym, where I sat down on the very end of the second row of one of the bleachers. I watched others move around, trying to sit next to their friends or family, before I saw three guys in labcoats and Gwen walk up onto the stage.

I recognized one of them as Otto Octavius, but I didn’t know the other two. I assumed one of ‘em was Smythe.

And as luck would have it, about a minute later, they answered me, “Hello everyone, my name is Dr. Otto Octavius, and I’m here with my colleagues, Dr. Michael Morbius and Dr. Spencer Smythe.”

Michael Morbius? I actually do recognize the name, but only barely. I once read a paper of his when I did a report on nocturnal animals back in eighth grade. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Unattractive.

I tuned back in to hear Dr. Octavius actually get to the point, “Every year, Oscorp holds an event at a random school on the East Coast, in this case yours, that you are attending at this very moment called The Oscorp Scholarship Program For Teens and Young Adults. It is a program that is stylized in the form of a contest, where students who are interested create projects and write up a report in regards to it, as well as maintaining a high GPA. And the students with the best projects and consistently good grades present their project to Oscorp, where the team who is judging these students decide whether or not the research is worthwhile or valuable in the modern day. Whoever wins gets a fully funded scholarship to The Empire State University for their Bachelor Degree.”

I raised my eyebrows slightly. That sounded like a… pretty good deal, to be perfectly honest.

"I would like to introduce our previous winner of the contest, a classmate of yours in Junior year, Gwendolyn Stacy,” Dr. Octavius allowed for Gwen Stacy to wave to the audience to a round of applause.

I clapped along and watcher her with a smile as she sheepishly tried to not meet anyone’s eyes, looking away. The applause died down soon enough and I let my hand drop to my kn-

“Ow!” I yelped and a few people in the crowd turned to look at me as I grabbed my arm.

Man, that stung like a… a… I don’t know! When I put my hand down, I just felt this weird sharp pain on my wrist, as if someone stabbed me there. I began to turn my wrist over to look at it when I saw a dead black spider with slightly green tinted fur roll off my knee and down onto the bleachers. A spider bite? Dammit, I’m going to need to get some ointment or something on this when I get home. These things always itch like hell afterward.

I hate spiders.

I stomped on the corpse then wiped it off the bleachers, turning my attention back to the presentation. The Michael Morbius guy was on stage now with a display case beside him on a small, round, metal table. Dr. Smythe was talking about something relating to technology, but I really wasn’t all too interested in it. I squinted my eyes through my glasses to see what was in it, but was only barely able to make it out.

Spiders. Black spiders with slightly green tinted fur.

Ohhh no.

I felt all the breath catch in my throat, looking down to see what was left of the spider, finding the remains to look exactly alike. Oh no. Ohhh no. This is bad. This is really, really bad.

What if it was deadly? Like… poisonous? A slow acting posion that could peel my skin off… Or what if it was really, really valuable? It bit me and then it died, so maybe they’ll fine me millions of dollars. Then Aunt May will kill me. Ah man. I’m dead either way.

I didn’t even realize the presentation had ended, but when it did, the only thing that took me out of my panicked thoughts was someone tapping me on the shoulder.

“Peter?”

I looked in front of me to see Gwen Stacy, Dr. Octavius, Dr. Morbius, and Dr. Smythe standing there.

I could only manage a garbled, “Huh?”

“I told you I wanted to introduce you after the presentation,” She smiled oddly, “Are you all right?”

“Ah…” I quickly wiped up the spider corpse with my shoe and walked over to the front of the bleachers, “Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”

She smirked, frowning slightly in confusion as she did, “Okay, then. Dr. Morbius, Dr. Octavius, Dr. Smythe, meet Peter. He’s a classmate of mine who’s also interested in science.”

“Hey there,” I shook all of their hands, garnering polite and slightly fake smiles from all of them. I look at the stage and the display case of spiders through their shoulders.

“It’s nice to meet you, Peter. Will you be trying out for the program this year?” Dr. Octavius asks me.

I saw Gwen look at me almost hopefully for a moment, then looked back at Dr. Octavius. However, I noticed my vision blurred for a few moments there, almost shook slightly.

I panicked, answering quickly, “Ah… yeah. Yeah I probably will.”  
Dr. Octavius gives a genuine smile now along with Gwen, “Good! That’s very good to hear.”

I glance at the case once more and then look at Morbius, who is barely paying attention to the conversation, “Dr. Morbius?”

Dr. Morbius turned his gaze to me, “Yes?”

Okay, that time, my vision definitely shook. This… this is probably not good.Well, time to break out my award winning lies, “Hi there. I’m a big fan of your work.”

Dr. Morbius smirks pridefully, “Ah, thank you.”

I nodded, “Say uh… I might have missed it or something, but what were those spiders on the stage?”

Dr. Morbius frowns, then spins his head around for a moment to look at what I was talking about and then his face lights up with recognition.

“Ah. Yes, the spiders. One of our most successful projects in recent years. They are genetically engineered and irradiated arachnids with the ability to produce webs that are strong enough to hold fifty tons or more without much struggle,” Irradiated? Genetically engineered?

This is much worse than before. Oh no. Oh this is not good. Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn.

He gives me an analytical look, “Why do you ask?”

I blanked out looking for an answer, too panicked to even think, “I… ah…”

“Peter!”

I heard a voice calling my name, and turning to the source of the sound, I see Uncle Ben making his way over to me. Oh thank God for Uncle Ben.

“Uncle Ben! Hey!” I waved to him and he came to stand next to me.

Uncle Ben looked at me then at the scientists, “I was looking for you. But I see you are uh… becoming acquainted with some of these people.”

“We’re about done here anyway, Mr. Parker. We have some other things to do before we’re finished up here,” Gwen said to him.

“Are you sure?” He asked and she nodded, “Okay then. Nice to meet you all. Peter, let’s go.”

I nodded, waved goodbye to the group and caught up to my Uncle who was already walking away at this point. We made our way through the parking lot and onto the sidewalk, where the subway station was a few blocks away. I made it a few blocks before stumbling, my vision going blurry and shaking again. Uncle Ben took a long look at me.

“Are you all right? You look sick,” He surmised.

I turned to him, feeling the sweat on my brow, the flashes of coldness and warmth, and the constant itches that were spreading all over my body, “Yeah, I feel… feveri-i-”

Right then and there, I puked all over the sidewalk. Some random families that I didn’t recognize saw this and watched for a moment before going back to whatever they were doing.

“Peter!”

Uncle Ben kneeled down and looked at me for a moment, then patted me on the back as I continued to throw up.

O-Oh God, there goes last night’s d-dinner. O-oh. Here comes… Aunt May’s lasagna… erghh…

When I finished, Uncle Ben helped me to my feet, carrying my weight as I walked forward.

“Let’s get you home and into bed.”

**To Be Continued...**


	4. Home Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What wacky misadventures await a Peter Parker who wakes up with... super powers!?

_Burr-drrnnnnnn… Burr-drrrrnnnn…_

“Hrrnfh…?”

_Burr-drrnnnnnn… Burr-drrrrnnnn…_

“Ehhhhrrh…”

_Burr-drrnnnnnn… Burr-drrr-_

It was the day after the presentation and the fair and it was sometime in the afternoon. Yesterday, when we got home, Uncle Ben was able to tide me over with some stomach medicine before Aunt May got home, flipped out, and took over taking care of me. Just before I went to bed, they told me I was sick enough that I should stay home tomorrow, so I have.

And that noise there that woke me up? That was my phone alarm going off on my sidetable. I was honestly too tired to care, so I just closed my half-open eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

_Burr-drrnnnnnn… Burr-drrrrnnnn…_

I frowned, “Ah… Jesus Christ…”

So I finally bit the bullet and tried to raise my hand to reach out of the covers and grab my phone. And I started to, but I began to pull the covers with me. I must be really tired and was holding the covers or something, but for some reason, my hand was not letting go. I consciously tried to release my grip on the covers, but it was sticking to it.

Man, this sleep must have helped a lot. I must have sweated all the sickness away or however that works. However… I don’t remember my sweat being this sticky. Or sticky at all, for that matter.

I tried to pull my other hand out, but it was in the same position. My fingers are stuck to the sheets. Literally. Like I can’t take them off. Is this a dream?

I tried to kick my covers off, but I found my feet were in the same position as my fingers. Why the hell is my body sticking to my covers?

I began to writhe as my phone continued to blare my alarm. I started to roll over to the edge of my bed, inching my head over to my sidetable. I can’t believe I’m actually in a position like this. This is really, really weird.

Finally, on the final ring of the third time my alarm was going off, I stuck my nose onto my phone, turning it off with a few failed attempts. But as I did, I nearly fell off the bed, so I was able to wriggle my way back on.

Okay, you know what? Screw it.

With an annoyed grunt and all of my strength, I ripped my hands out from the covers, pulling them out so fast that they dented my headboard behind me. I turned and looked, my eyes widening, then looked at my hands, seeing bits of my sheets stuck to my fingertips.

My headboard is made out of metal with a wooden overlay to make it look fancy. Nothing I could do would dent that stuff even if I took an afternoon just to punch it repeatedly. And I just made two HUGE dents in it with my hands and barely felt it. Hell, I only felt the impact. And now my fingers and feet are sticking to everything.

“Peter? Are you okay? I heard a noise.” I heard my Aunt May’s voice yell from downstairs.

It took me a second, but I yelled back, “Yeah! Yeah, I’m okay! Sorry!”

Aunt May didn’t respond, so I took this opportunity to rip my feet out from the covers as well, bits of my sheets sticking to it as well. I was then able to push my sheets off the bed my pushing it with my elbows and chin, trying my best to not have my feet or hands touch anything.

With some effort, I was able to swing my feet around so they were hanging off my bed, and I had my elbows on my knees, holding my hands up.

I need to get a drink of water. Or at least wash my face. Or something.

So, I rocked back on my elbows and pushed off of them to stand up, but my own strength betrayed me, and I pushed off of the bed so hard as to make myself fly forward a bit, lying straight in the middle of the room on my ass.

I put my hands down instinctively to push off of them, but I found that I couldn’t, because of my damn sticky thing going on. I kept trying to push off of them, but only succeeded in literally holding myself up in the air from the ground with literally zero to no effort whatsoever. I could barely do a sit up yesterday and now I can do this?

What the hell is going on?

So I let myself sit back down on the ground and I took a moment. All right. Apparently my hands and feet can cling to things now. And if they can do that, there’s gotta be a way to make them stop. Like if I just think about it, it should happen. I think. Hopefully.

By the time I finished thinking about thinking about it, I was already burying my face in my hands. Oh. Oh wait. I did it. Damn. I’m good at this.

And with conscious thought, I was able to stand up and walk around without sticking to the floor or anything like that. So at least I can do that.

_Burr-drrnnnnnn… Burr-drrrrnnnn…_

_Burr-drrnnnnnn… Burr-drrrrnnnn…_

But then, my phone’s alarm went off again. I must have pressed snooze or something. So I turned back and looked at my sidetable, where I’d have to make a very small jump over my bag and a plate of food to get over there. So I tried.

As you could expect, it didn’t end very well. In fact, not well at all. I tried to do a little hop over the items and I flew forward. I leaped over the sidetable, knocking over my lamp as I swung my hand through the air, knocking my phone across the room too. Then I smacked into the wall and fell down onto my bed.

Aunt May chimed in too, “Peter? Are y-”

“Yep! Peachy.”

Okay, now I know for a fact that I am really, really strong too.

I groaned, looking over to see that I had swung my phone all the way over across the room, under my desk.

So, of course, being the optimist that I am, I pushed myself out of bed, then after using all of my energy to walk over and not stick to things as well, I didn’t even want to risk my hands being stuck to the floor again while I’m like, trying to crawl under it to get my phone. I grabbed my desk with one of my hands and tried to pull it out of the way, but being me and not realizing my own strength again, I pulled my desk so hard that it flipped through the air and landed on the other side of my room. Goddammit.

At least I got my phone. Although it won’t turn on.

It’s great being me, isn’t it?

I walked over and grabbed my desk, finding that I could lift it with one hand. Virtually without effort as well. I set it back to the way it was, on the right side of my room, before hearing Aunt May’s voice again.

“Peter? Are you absolutely sure you’re okay? I keep hearing noises up there…”

Her yelling surprised me and I spun around, bumping into my wall. The shelves on my wall shook for a moment before an old collectible, a pot I made in ceramics, and a photo fell off of them. And then suddenly, something my brain rang and I knew exactly where the falling objects were, where they were going, and how to catch them.

With lightning-fast speed, I reached my hand backwards, catching the collectible, and then with my other arm, caught the picture in the crook of my elbow and the pot in my hand.

“Okay, I’m coming up!” I heard her yell, followed by loud footsteps.

Oh. Oh no.

I panicked, knowing I needed to get back into my bed so she wouldn’t know anything is up, and with some kind of vibration in my head that almost told me what to do, I tossed the three items back on their respective spots on the shelves almost perfectly, but that wasn’t good enough. I could hear she was only like five seconds away from my door.

So instinctively, I leaped backwards, doing a full on backflip from one end of my room, straight back into my bed quickly and smoothly, even being able to grab my blanket and drape it over myself before she pushed open my door.

“Peter, are-oh,” She saw me in bed with a blanket over my body, curled up, “Ahem, are you all right?”

I nodded my head, sitting up, “Yup. All good. Feeling a bit better, really.”

“Good, Peter. Good,” She came and sat on the edge of my bed, “You need anything?”

I sighed, “Yeah. Yeah, I could use a hug.”

She smiled wistfully at me, leaning over and giving me a hug. I held her close for a moment and then tried to pull away, but couldn’t.

God. Dammit. I was stuck to her.

She tried to pull away, but I held her close so I could unstick my hands, “No no, just for a second longer.”

Aunt May obliged me before I pulled my hands off of her and she stood up, kissing me on the forehead, then walked out of the room. She closed the door behind her.

Oh man. That could’ve gone… very oddly. Or extremely badly. One of the two.

I swung my feet over my bed, burying my head in my hands.

Okay, now, let’s review. My hands and feet are sticking to everything they touch. And apparently, I’m so strong, I was able to make a dent in wood and metal, flip my desk over with one hand, and carry my weight with no leverage at all without even really trying to. And not only that, but I’m so fast, that I can catch three falling items before they hit the ground, using some weird vibration and ringing sensation in my head to do so. To top it all off, for some reason, I feel it’s now almost instinctive to just use acrobatics to get to place to place. My go-to movement to get to my bed was a backflip. And it worked! I’ve never been able to backflip in my life! Not even front flip. Now I can leap over teen feet without it even being a problem.

Woofh. Okay. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, the question is, why?

And I don’t know why I’m asking myself that, because I think I already know the answer to that. That damn little spider from yesterday did this.

Dr. Smythe mentioned the spider was radioactive and was genetically modified to make webs strong enough to carry fifty plus tons. Thankfully, I don’t have webs coming out from my ass, so maybe someone’s looking out for me. But regardless, that spider was jacked up with stuff. Its bite must have given me spider genetics or something like that, cause that’s the only thing that makes sense.

However, I have spider powers. There’s no denying that. Spiders can stick to walls, they’re strong, agile, and they’re quick. I’m all of those things now. Just… proportionate to a human.

I actually have super powers. I… I actually have powers. You’d think that’d be cool, but it’s really just… scary. And shocking. It might be cool in the future or whatever, but it’s really screwed up now.

I looked at my wrist, seeing a red bite mark from the spider. It was odd, that something so small literally changed my entire life overnight.

“Agh…” I groaned, running my hands through my hair.

I don’t’ even know what to think. I don’t know if I hate this or if it’s okay or anything. I just feel confused and almost a little bit sad. My entire life has been about trying to blend into the background, trying to stay out of the limelight and now suddenly, this comes into my life. How am I ever going to be normal? I don’t want to be weird or different from all these other people.

Okay, I need to calm down. I’m panicking for nothing. I can learn to control this, right? It’ll take some practice and stuff, but I know I can figure out how to make sure my abilities don’t make me stand out.

After resolving the issue in my head, I decided to take my hands off of my hair… to no avail.

Okay, yeah, this’ll take some work.

I began trying to think about letting go, but for some reason, my hands wouldn’t come off of my hair. I stood up, trying to pull them off again, but I couldn’t.

Screw it; I’m pulling my hands off. If I take some of my hair with them, so be it. I’ll wear a beanie.

I whispered to myself, “Okay… one… two… three!”

I lifted my hands as hard as I could, and thankfully, my fingers stopped sticking to my hair when I did. But, my fingers immediately hit the ceiling of my room and then decided to stick to there instead. I began to pull and pull, trying to get them off without damaging the ceiling. And in my stupidity, I placed a foot onto the ceiling, trying to use it to push off and gain leverage, only for my foot to stick to it as well, followed by the other one.

Oh my God… I’m literally clinging to my ceiling. I am looking down at the floor as I’m hanging here.

On pure instinct, I tried something out, calming myself down as I take one of my hands off from the ceiling and move it, along with the rest of my limbs, beginning to crawl forward. I moved slowly but surely, yet, it felt so natural. As if I was walking on the ground. It was… amazing.

For maybe about ten minutes, I crawled all across the ceiling in my room, trying out different positions as well. I could hang from two feet, from both of my hands, I could have one hand on the ceiling and pull myself up in a one handed pull-up with no problem at all, I could face downward and have my back to the ceiling, I could do anything as long as one limb was stuck there.

Okay… yeah. I think I should maybe test out my new… abilities. All for the good of science, of course.

~

The next day, I decided to head to an old hangout of mine. It was an old landfill about a mile away from my home. I always used it to do homework or play games when I wanted to be alone. Sometimes I’d just come here to think. Sounds all broody and sad, I know, but I don’t think it was. I don’t even know if it’s used anymore.

I found a benefit to my powers this morning… I don’t need my glasses anymore. Or contacts. At all. Like, if anything, they kind of hurt my vision. On top of my vision, my hearing is better too. I could even smell my neighbor’s breakfast when I woke up. It was french toast, I think.

But today… well today is all about learning how to use my new powers. I’ve gotten to the point now where I’ve learned not to stick to everything I touch, it’s now almost something I control unconsciously. Easy learning curve, to be honest, it just started off a bit rocky.

Now… well… let’s see what I can do.

 

~

Let’s start off with strength. The landfill has a lot of old stuff to lift, so I have quite the selection to choose from. The only problem is, I have to choose something where there is no risk of contracting a disease of some sort. So… toilets are off the table.

After going through the place a bit, I lined up a whole selection of things to lift. A mostly full metal trashcan, an old thrown-out couch, and a full metal dumpster as well.

I walked forward, cracking my knuckles before grabbing the underside of the trashcan and lifting it straight into the air. No problem at all. I moved over to the couch and was able to lift that as well, again with no struggle. Now the real test was here, which was the dumpster. I grabbed its underside, and with little to no effort, I lifted that over my head as well. My God. This is… this is actually pretty cool. I felt like Mr. Universe, but with garbage instead of weights.

After conquering those measly makeshift weights, I searched the whole lot to find something heavier than that. And I got my wish. A mostly still-intact minivan that had the ceiling torn off and its wheels were gone. I hesitated for a bit, not knowing if I could even try and lift it. I know I’m now strong… but am I that strong? I could hurt myself if I’m not. Even if I do get it over my head, what if I can’t hold it there? There goes Peter Parker, bodybuilder extraordinaire. Hrmm…

Well… I guess I should probably at least try.

So, I shuffled over some trash to get to the wreckage of the minivan. I rubbed my hands together for a moment, looking at it. Oh man… all right, let’s do this.

I bent down and grabbed the underside of it, testing out if my fingers were able to move it at all. I found they could, tipping it up ever so slightly. Taking a deep breath, I lifted my hands upward, tipping the car upwards. I then took one of my hands, with the other one holding the edge, crouched down, and grabbed the other edge of the car.

“Hrrngh…!”

I raised both of my hands slowly over my head, struggling a little bit as I lifted what was probably about nearly three tons of metal over my head. I took a deep breath, breathing a little bit harder before looking up. I smirked, then set it down next to me. I ran off before returning with the dumpster, where I placed the couch and the trash can inside of it. I shoved it into the minivan’s open ceiling before moving to its front. I gripped either side of its bumper, grunting as I heaved the car into the air in front of me, holding it in front of my waist. I then hefted it upwards, finding my way under the car and once again, holding it above my own head. I looked upwards at my hands, gripping the metal hard enough that it was slightly crushing it, and before I knew what I was really doing, I pulled one of my hands away. I was holding a dumpster, a couch, a full trashcan, and a minivan above my head. With one hand. With. One. Hand.

Growing a bit cocky, I went so far to begin taking fingers away from my grip on the car until the point where I was holding it with my pointer and middle finger. I couldn’t believe what I was doing. At this point I was struggling, but I could still do it. I finally let the car down on its side, nearly dropping it.

I began to laugh. I’m not just really strong all of a sudden, no. I have super strength.

Ohhhh man.

~

I stood at where I started in the landfill, bouncing from one feet to another. Yesterday, I instinctively backflipped through the air and landed perfectly on my bed. It felt a lot like crawling on my ceiling did, natural. So I’ve decided to see if I’ve learned to do any other kind of tricks.

After continuing to bounce on my feet, I ran forward for a few steps and then took a small leap through the air. Immediately, I moved my body so I twisted, backflipped, than landed on my feet. I followed this up fluidly with a back handspring, then another, then another, until I leaped back through the air, flipping sideways.

This felt… smooth. I was flipping, twirling, spinning, and springing into the air. After a while, I didn’t even know where the ground really was, and I didn’t mind either.

I didn’t need the ground anymore.

Not even realizing it, I kept leaping higher and higher, all the way to the point where I must have been fifteen, no, twenty feet in the air with each leap I took. I don’t really know how to describe the feeling other than it felt smooth and natural. Which I’ve already said.

But suddenly, that vibration I felt yesterday went off in my head. I span my body around in the air and my brain told me to put my hands out to brace for impact. And the next thing you know, I land on the side of a telephone pole.

I expected to slam into it and fall, but my feet and hands gripped it then, and I was clinging onto the pole, about fifteen feet above the ground. After further inspection, I saw the telephone pole was old and it didn’t seem to work anymore. The cables connected to the top of it were hanging off, nearly touching the ground. I looked ahead to see where the new telephone poles were located.

“This is insane…” I muttered to myself, looking to the ground before looking to the top.

If I’m judging this correctly, there’s about fifteen more feet of this pole left. I could climb down… but for some reason, I didn’t want to. My body felt comfortable up here. I liked it above the ground for some reason. I don’t know why… but I wanted to keep going up. All the way up.

So I did. I moved my hands and feet up, instinctively in a spider-like fashion. I crawled up this pole, higher and higher into the air, eventually using the rungs on the side as leverage. It was all coming to me as if I was writing or riding my bike. I could climb. I could climb anything.

Eventually, I hit the top, holding onto the edge of the ten-inch wide end of it. I pulled myself up onto it, using my newfound sense of balance to crouch on the pole, looking out onto New York City.

Wow. This city is beautiful.

I took some time to look before my new sense warned me of something coming toward me. I looked to see a pigeon headed my way.

Uh oh.

I tried to move, but was so flustered by the bird and my position that I just tripped backwards, my tailbone hitting the edge of the pole as I fell.

“CRAP!” I screamed, falling backwards before reaching out, grabbing the end of one of the limp cables hanging from the top of it.

As I grabbed this cable, my momentum caused me to swing forward on it, all the way over the fence of the landfill and halfway over the sidewalk before I lost my grip on it in my anxiety.

Yeah, okay, I’m dead. It was nice having super powers while they lasted. See you guys later.

I flew through the air, putting my arms out to somehow soften my fall, but instead, I landed on the building next to the landfill, perfectly perched on the side of it.

Oh… uh…

I took one hand off of the wall and inspected myself. I was totally fine. I didn’t die…

That almost felt like… you know how spiders would sometimes swing themselves to the side to continue making their web? It kinda felt like that. Or at least it looked like it. I think.

I… I want to do it again. Or… Something like that again. Maybe not with telephone poles but with… something else. I’ll figure it out.

By the time, I finished thinking to myself, I looked around to see if anyone was around, thankfully no one was, and then climbed down. I made my way down the street, wondering if Aunt May had made dinner yet.

**To Be Continued...**


	5. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you know Spider-Man, you know the decision that awaits Peter Parker. If not, read on, true believer.

You know, today might be the best day I’ve had in a while. I walked onto the subway and right there were a bunch of guys all dressed as power rangers. They all collectively said hi to me. I had to keep myself from laughing.

Also, you hear about that guy who got pushed onto the subway tracks and died and there was a photographer there who just took a picture and didn’t help? He even tried to defend himself. That’s just sad, really.

Man… New York is the best and the worst sometimes. You gotta love it here.

Oh and uh, Gwen texted me and said she wanted to go over what she was going to cover in the first club meeting since I was sick that day. She told me to meet her outside of the school at two. So that’s what I’m doing.

But seriously, though. The subways are crazy, man.

After having that little inner monologue about subways in my head, I was waiting for my stop in the station, rocking back and forth on my heels. I looked a little bit like a kid who was about to get a gift, but who could blame me? I’m going to go hang out with Gwen Stacy, resident hottie of Midtown High.

And it was good to get out and do something with a friend, ya know? I… don’t have many friends, so I don’t really go out and do things with people. I’ve been told that I should from Aunt May and Uncle Ben, but, I don’t know. I’m not very good with people, most of them just kinda make fun of me. Or shut me out. Or something.

And all the while, as I was thinking this, I was walking back and forth through the station, but I took a step over the edge of the subway platform, tumbling onto my back.

“Agh…!” I grabbed my tailbone, rubbing it slightly, “You’d think stick ‘em powers would be helpful in these situations…”

And then my brain tingled. Just like with the pigeons and the things that fell off my shelves. My… spidery sense. Spider-Powered Sense? Eh. I’ll figure it out. Point is, it tingled.

“Hey! Buddy! Get the hell off the tracks!” One of the pedestrians yelled, a small crowd gathering.

Then, almost a second after, I heard the rumbling of the subway tracks. Oh… crap.

I scrambled to my feet, seeing the lights coming out from the corner. I had one, maybe two seconds before I was an inconvenient splatter on the train operator’s windshield.

But, that’s the great thing about these new power thingies? I only need a second or two.

Throwing my weight upwards and backwards, I span through the air and landed on the platform in a split second, the subway racing by as it came to stop just after I had jumped. I could hear the people collectively letting out their breaths and I decided to let out mine, filing into the subway with everyone else.

Let’s hope I don’t have to do that again. Knock on… ah… subway pole-handle-thing.

Then a few stops later, I walked out of the subway deathtrap with one hand holding my backpack strap and the other one in my pocket. I made my way a few blocks down until I hit the entrance to Midtown High, where I stopped and waited for a little while.

“Peter?” I turned to see Gwen, “Oh, Peter, hey. What’s up?”

“Not much. I’ve uh…” I cleared my throat, “I’ve just been sick in bed.”

“Aww,” Gwen mock-pouted, “Lying in bed the whole weekend, I feel so sorry for you.”

If you only knew what really happened this weekend, maybe then you’d have a different reaction.

“Yeah? How was the science club meeting?” I teased.

She turned her nose up at me, “It was great.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I talked to myself for thirty minutes straight during lunch break,” She smirked, “Still a more satisfying conversation than I’ve ever had with you.”

“You’ve known me for like five days!”

“I’m well aware how long I’ve had to suffer around you.”

We both laughed for a little while, but we calmed down after a while. I’ve laughed more with this girl in the five days I’ve known her than… well… I’ve laughed with anyone else I’ve called my friend. Except maybe Harry… hrm.

“Well, come on, let’s sit down. We have stuff to cover.”

Gwen and I walked to the front lawn of Midtown High, sitting down near the sidewalk. I decided to ask, “What exactly do we have to go over?”

“Well the school gave us a little questionnaire to get to know our members, then the club president would read them out loud,” She explained, handing me a pen and paper from her backpack.

“Really? Couldn’t you just ask me these questions?” I raised an eyebrow at me and she scowled.

“We’re still a club, you know. Just because we’re only two people doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure, sure,” I raised my hands in defeat and got down to filling out the paper.

I was worried I’d break the pencil because of my new powers, but it seems that I’ve gotten enough of a hang of them that I’ll be able to at least function as a normal human being from now on.

The questionnaire was standard fair, really. At the top, there was a logo for Midtown High and below that were places to write your name, the date, and your grade. There were ten questions on the paper…

1\. Where were you born?  
2\. Who is your family?  
3\. What do you like to do at home?  
4\. What do you want to study in college?  
5\. Do you have any pets?  
6\. What’s your favorite color?  
7\. What’s your favorite animal? Least favorite?  
8\. Who’s your best friend?  
9\. What is your favorite food?  
10\. Why did you join this club?

We took a few minutes to fill out the questionnaires. All the while, I was stealing glances at her. She looked cute when she was concentrating. She kind of scrunched up her face occasionally as she wrote. Erfh. More and more, I’m realizing how hot this girl is.

“All right,” She put down her pencil, “You done?”

“Yeah,” I handed over my paper, but she pushed it away, “You can read your own. Your mouth works just fine.”

“What? But you were just going on about-” She smirked at me as I tried to continue, obviously just teasing me. I rolled my eyes and asked if I could read first, to which she nodded.

“Well I uh… I was born in Queens. And I live there still. I had parents at one point but they passed a long time ago. Their names were Richard and Mary. I live with the people who’ve raised me most of my life, Ben and May Parker. I’m uh… I’m kind of a nerd in the things I like to do, really. I like to read comics and books, I play video games, and I actually like photography,”

“I was wondering about that. Cause you always have your camera on you,” Gwen pointed out and I nodded, continuing.

“I’m… not really sure what I want to study in college yet. I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t have any pets, I kinda want a dog though. My favorite color, well, I actually have two. Red and blue. My favorite animal is probably… ah… a lion or monkey. Something like that. I hate spiders though,” I mentioned and Gwen perked up at their mention.

“Oh, really? They’re my favorite animal,” Gwen said.

I had to crack a small smile at that one.

“Yeah, they always come around at the worst times,” I smirked wider, “But uh… I…” I thought for a moment, “I don’t know how to really put this without sounding all mopy, but I don’t really have any friends. I used to have one, but he doesn’t ever come see me anymore. I’m not even sure if he’s still in the state or not…”

Gwen was staring at me, but in a way I didn’t really want her to. It was the thing that I knew if I told her this, I’d get. The sad, ‘Aw you poor thing’ look. I’m fine not having many friends. I’m really… okay with it, honestly.

“Well, I’m your friend,” Gwen smiled.

I looked at her for a moment and cracked a smile of my own. I bet I was turning red, but I tried to hide my face.

She broke the short silence, “What’s your favorite food?”

“Huh? Oh. Right,” I cleared my throat, “I really like my Aunt May’s cherry pie. And I joined this club cause this cute girl I know told me I should.”

Gwen heard me finish up and I looked to see her blushing, but then scrunch up her face in thought, “Wait, I never told you to join…?”

“Yeah. I know you didn’t,” I smirked and she threw her pencil at me.

“Jerk,” She was still smiling though, so I had to have done something right.

“Okay well, I’ll do mine. I was born in Manhattan, but mostly grew up in Brooklyn. I have a pretty fully family, with a mother, a father, and three brothers. Their names are Helen, George, Howard, Phillip, and Simon. I like to read a lot and I… you know, actually do enjoy researching things. It’s fun, you know? But anyway, I’d like to study biology. It’s the thing that interests me the most in school and I just… I don’t know, I like it a lot. I don’t have any pets, but my favorite color is blue. As I said, I really like spiders, but I hate lions, just because screw you.”

I laughed, but she continued on, “I listen to a bit of everything. I really like Italian food and uh… well, I made the club because I love science in general. And because… uh… a cute boy said he’d join it.”

“See, that doesn’t work though, because I actually said I’d join it.”

“I know,” She smiled at me.

I looked at her for a moment, my eyes narrowing, but she cut my thought process off.

“Oh! I saw a couple days ago on the school calendar that your birthday is tomorrow,” She said.

…It is? Ah shit. I forgot about it again.

“Right. Yeah, yeah it is. Turning seventeen.”

“Oh cool. I should invite you over or something,” She offered.  
My heart skipped a beat as she said this, but I shook my head, “Nah, it’s okay. My Uncle and Aunt have something planned. I think.”

“Oh, well, okay. The offer still stands though,” She smiled at me, gathering up her things.

“Where are you off to?” I asked, grabbing my bag and standing up.

“We’re going to go get something to eat. And since you missed our first meeting, you’re buying,” She turned and begun to walk away, “Come on, Peter.”

I shrugged, not being able to help smiling to myself. I followed her out of the school courtyard and down the street.

~

“Look, hot dogs are the best okay? So don’t even talk.”

Gwen rolled her eyes and took a bite out of her own hot dog as I ate mine. We were sitting on a bench in Manhattan, watching people go by as we chomped down on our food. I got it from a hot dog stand I go to sometimes, usually when I’m in the area for some reason. It’s pretty good stuff, man. In general I’m a huge fan of food that you get from stands or New York-style food in general.

“So, what were you sick with on Friday?” Gwen eventually asked.

I could have replied, ‘Well, Gwen, I was bitten by one of Dr. Morbius’ genetically modified and radioactive spiders, and because of that, I went through a metamorphosis that eventually led me to get spider powers. And, before you ask, no, I don’t have webs coming out of my ass! That was the first thing I checked’

But what I actually said was, “I’unno, food poisoning maybe.”

“Oh,” She took a sip of her drink, “Um, you said you like reading, right? What kind of stuff do you read?”

“Uh, fantasy stuff, you know? Sci-fi books, all that kind of stuff,” I finished my drink, “You?”

She shrugged, “I read some sci-fi too, yeah.”

We made some more small talk for a moment, but I was beginning to get thirsty again. I looked at my empty drink and then stood up.

“I’m gonna head over to the hot dog stand and get another drink. You want anything?” I stretched out, yawning.

“Nope, I’m okay,” Gwen responded, still focused on her food.

I walked down the street, thinking about where I was right now. I was with the hottest girl in school, hands down, and she was actually interested in my company. And… I might be flirting with her? I don’t know, really, I’ve never really flirted, but I think I am. I hope I am.

I turned the corner of the street to go to the hot dog stand when I saw something that stopped me in my tracks. At the hot dog stand, I saw some guy with red hair, a thin face, and pale skin holding what seemed to be a gun on the counter of the hot dog stand, the guy who was running it was looking around everywhere, as if trying to look for help of any kind.

The robber was saying something but I really couldn’t make it out from as far away that I was. I caught the word ‘money’, but I expected that.

I could… maybe wrestle the gun from him. No, I definitely could. I can lift four tons over my head, maybe more. I can do it. I think. But… he has a gun. And I don’t’ think I can outmaneuver a bullet. But my… spider sense, or whatever, the tingling in my head, could warn me. I think that’s what it does. But…

The man who ran the stand started turning his head to me. It felt like an eternity, almost in slow motion. It was… after we locked eyes, there would be no turning back. I would be involved in this, for better or for worse. But when he fully turned his head to look at me? I wasn’t there anymore. I had already turned the corner.

“Peter? I thought you were getting a drink?” Gwen asked, seeing me walk over and grab my bag.

“He…” My throat was dry, but not from thirst, “He wasn’t there.”

“Oh,” Gwen shrugged, throwing her hot dog wrapper into the trash nearby, “Well uh… you want to walk to the station together? I need to be heading home…”

“Yeah, yeah. I do too,” I nodded frequently, looking back to see if something had happened yet.

“Okay,” Gwen walked down the street and I followed close behind.

Sheesh. That was… close.

**To Be Continued...**


	6. A Minor Setback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Norman Osborn has plans. Plans that need to be fulfilled quickly. And if they're not...

The cool office air drifted through Dr. Spencer Smythe’s small office. The streetlights shone through the loose blinds, painting the walls, which were not illuminated by Smythe’s desk lamp, with light. The sounds of a pencil scratching paper, a pen swirling into a refined signature, the heavy breathing of an unhealthy man just through his mid-life crisis accompanied by the smell of cheap cologne and old air freshener. It was a fitting scene for someone like Dr. Smythe.

The good doctor had been working tirelessly at his desk for hours upon hours today. There was lot of paperwork that had to be filed for his most recent project to be put through the test and he wasn’t even sure if it was ready. While filling out several forms, on a scratch piece of paper, there laid a pencil and complex math equations to calculate various things about the project. He was nervous.

Smythe had always been a nervous man. Despite being hailed as one of the leading experts in cybernetic engineering and having one of the most brilliant men on the planet in the form of Otto Octavius as his partner in crime, he was very unsure of himself most of the time. You didn’t get to where he was today unless you are willing to be your own greatest critic, to be a perfectionist in your own eyes so that other people cannot poke holes in your product. Otto Octavius knew this. But Otto was a lot more confident than Smythe had ever been. Anytime they create a new invention or just finish something, Otto is always willing to test it out himself, without any proper personnel with him, because he just knew they didn’t mess up. They couldn’t mess up. They were some of the most brilliant minds of the twenty first century.

His lack of confidence has lead Smythe to become something of a workaholic. Every hour not spent with his family is spent on work and he devoted more time to building machines than he did building a relationship with his now adult son. He was more used to labcoats and dirty jokes shared among colleagues than the smiling face of his wife, who always welcomed him home with a hot plate of what she cooked that night and smile just as warm. He couldn’t ask for a better family. And that always troubled him. It would much easier on his conscience if his wife and son ended up being terrible people. But they weren’t. Simple as that.

The sound of his intercom startled him out of his own head and into the realm of reality, where the nasal voice of his undergrad receptionist rung out through the speaker, “Dr. Smythe, you have a visitor by the name of Norman Osborn. Can I send him up?”

Smythe froze in place. A thousand thoughts ran through his head all at once. Norman Osborn never, ever paid Smythe a visit. If they ever needed to talk, they did so through the phone and the phone only. He thought that he might be fired, but that couldn’t be the case since he was still under contract until his project was finished. He thought that he might be in trouble, but he couldn’t recall doing anything other than working longer hours than he should, and he sincerely doubted that Osborn came to talk with him because of his work habits. And he-

“Dr. Smythe?” The voice rang out once more.

Quickly, he pressed the button of the receiver, “S-send him up.”

The receptionist didn’t respond. Which meant Osborn is on his way up here right now.

And with a quick glance at his office, he felt unfit for one of the richest men in the world to be here.

“Hrm.”

With surprising agility, Smythe began to tidy up his desk, which took only a small amount of time as he just straightened out some papers. Then he grabbed his can of coffee and chucked it into the waste bin along with a few wrappers from ordering in some burgers the night before. It didn’t take a very long time to get most everything on his desk cleaned up.

Smythe was always the one to panic under pressure. His partners never had. And he knew it, but he rarely made an effort to change that, as he did work better under pressure, even if he was panicking.

And that was showcased in the fact that Smythe had just cleaned up quite a bit of his office in a pretty short amount of time.

Knock knock.

“Come in, come in. The door is open,” Smythe called out, standing behind his desk.

In a moment, Osborn had opened the door to his office, taking a step through and closing the door behind him without a single word.

“Oh, it’s quite dark in here, isn’t it? Let me get the-” but Osborn held up his hand.

“Please. Sit. I quite like the dark. It’s soothing,” Osborn’s strong voice held the room like a vice.

One thing Osborn is renowned for is his overwhelming presence. He walked into a room and he commanded it immediately. And no one could defy him when he had taken control. Even his appearance was somewhat powerful. Even in the dim light, Smythe could make out his short, cropped, and auburn curls on top of his tall figure, which sported strong, piercing blue eyes and fair skin. He wore an expensive grey suit; one Smythe recognized from his many tabloid pictures. In every way, Osborn was what businessmen strived to be.

“How’ve you been, Spencer?” Osborn walked over and he stood up and shook his hand.

“Oh, you know how it is, Mr. Osborn. Working a lot, but it’s been good work. You?” Smythe replied, sitting back down. Osborn opted not to sit, just leaned on one of the two chairs in front of Smythe’s desk.

Osborn clasped his hands together, “Good. How’s the family?”

Smythe smiled, “Great. The wife has been keeping busy and my son’s just got into grad school. How about yours?

“That’s great,” he didn’t really sound as enthused as he tried to let off, “Harry… has been good.”

Scooting his chair upward, Smythe leans a little bit over the desk, “So, what can I help you with today, Mr. Osborn?”

“Not a whole lot, Spencer. All I’d wish to know is how you think the project is coming along,” Osborn stated plainly.

Smythe was caught a bit off guard by the question. He came all this way from Oscorp Towers to Empire State University just to do a project check? While Smythe is not a paranoid man, this doesn’t sound completely honest.

But he cleared his throat anyway and thought for a moment before answering, “It’s difficult to say.”

“Oh?” Osborn inquired.

“As you know, the suit has a very sensitive purpose. It needs apt experimentation as if it were to malfunction… well, you can probably connect the dots on that one,” Smythe leaned back in his chair, “Doing anything more at this stage, however, is difficult. It needs field experimentation and we’re unable to do that. At this point, it’s just calculating the likeliness of every possibility of failure. It’s become tedious as of late.”

“Field experimentation? That’s your only obstacle?” Osborn chuckled in a way that made Smythe uncomfortable, “Spencer, when I heard from Octavius that the project was being hindered by something, I expected lack of funds. Not a lack of experimentation.”

Smythe frowned a little bit. He didn’t take kindly to a businessman, who most likely didn’t know the first thing about engineering, patronizing him about his profession. Especially when he’s undertaking this job of epic proportions.

“Mr. Osborn, I understand it may seem trivial, but to conduct field experimentation, we’d need a human subject to test out the project. And as you are well aware, human testing is nigh-impossible without animal experimentation beforehand and we just don’t have the time, money, or resources to start an entirely new prototype only to use it once or twice on some chimp.”

Osborn’s thin smile never faded, “Once again, I fail to see the problem, Mr. Smythe.”

“The problem is without human experimentation, we cannot move for-“ and then it clicked in Smythe’s head.

As he stared down the CEO of Oscorp Industries, he understood what he was getting at. And he felt a chill go down his spine.

“Mr. Osborn…” Smythe gulped down the spit in his mouth, “Tha-That’s illegal.”

“Spencer, you are a man of science, yes?” Osborn picked up the apple placed neatly at the end of Smythe’s desk, “Do you know how all the greatest inventions of the modern day came about?”

Smythe did not say a word.

“Pushing boundaries. Pushing what people believe or think to be right. My teacher at Harvard used to tell me the biggest achievements all come with the biggest risk,” Osborn threw the apple in the air and catches it with the same hand.

“Take this apple for example,” Osborn made sure to showcase it, “This apple is theoretically yours. I could take a bite from it, but there’s no telling what you’d do to me. You might really like apples. You might hurt me or yell at me for biting this apple. But if I take a bite out of it and nothing happens, I get a treat that came with a risk that made it so much sweeter.”

Osborn, to prove his point, took a bite out of the apple and placed it back on the table. But almost as if on cue, Osborn’s cellphone began to ring. Checking it quickly, a dark shadow spread over his face.

“One moment.”

Osborn turned his back to Smythe and began to talk with a person who seemed to be his head of security. Smythe felt sick to his stomach. What as his boss asking him to do? How could he ask him to do that? This isn’t natural. It isn’t right. No one man should have to be asked to do something like this, no one man should have to suffer through the possible consequences.

Osborn hung up the phone abruptly, “I have to be going soon. A transport truck of mine has apparently been downed.”

Osborn put the phone in his pocket and walked up to the desk.

“I won’t say anything more, but,” Osborn took out a pen and his business card out of his suit jacket, “I’m going to give you the number of someone I know. His name is Dr. Bart Hamilton. He’s a psychiatrist. Do you know of Ravencroft Institute? He worked for them for a time. He provided them with... some subjects. He meets a lot of people down on their luck and alone. People that nobody would miss if an experiment were to go wrong all of a sudden. The kind of people that would be perfect for your kind of job.”

Smythe took the business card from Osborn’s hand, reading the number and the name of the man who this… this thing referred him to. Could he even be considered a man at this point? What is a man if he has no compassion?

“Regardless of your decision, I expect results. We wouldn’t want-”

But before he could finish, the door is opened, and in walks Spencer Smythe’s son, who adjusted his glasses to survey the scene promptly. He was a lanky boy, but one that carried his own kind of enigmatic presence into a room, somewhat similar to what Norman Osborn might’ve had at his age.

“Yo-You’re Norman Osborn,” Alistair whispered to himself and then cleared his throat, “I apologize. I’ll wait outsi-”

Osborn, in a similar fashion to earlier, held up his hand, “No need, Alistair. I was just leaving.”

The CEO leaned over his desk and shook Smythe’s hand courteously, leaving with a few short goodbyes, leaving behind all the tension in the room.

“What’s going on, Dad?” Alistair asked, looking through the blinds to see if Osborn had gone.

“Nothing, son,” Smythe stood up, pinching the bridge of his nose, “He just wanted an update on my research.”

“Oh.”

Smythe walked over and hugged his son, “Can I ask why you showed up to my office so late? It’s nearly 10:00 PM.”

“Mom and I wanted you home. We made your favorite tonight and I thought I might surprise you at work to take you home tonight,” Alistair explained.

“Ohoh,” Smythe chuckled, but gave his son another hug, “You’re too good to me, Alistair. All right, wait outside, I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Alistair nodded and left the room quickly. And Smythe just stood there, looking at the business card left on his desk by Norman Osborn.

~

“Argh! Damn!”

In the heart of Manhattan, a driver of a transport vehicle desperately struggled against the bonds of his seatbelt as he hung upside down in the upturned truck. He could feel the rushing of cars and hear the screams and conversations of people somewhat nearby. And worst of all, he could smell and hear the dripping of oil. He knew if he stayed like this for long, things were going to get bad quickly.

The driver attempted to press the button to release himself, but his effort yielded little. His Oscorp uniform was stuck in the seatbelt and he couldn’t budge it out. But when his eyes caught the sight of his pistol rattling around the car roof below him, a lightbulb lit up in his head.

So, quickly, the driver reached down and grasped the pistol with his fingertips, lifting it up into a tight grip. With a grunt of effort, he sat back against the seat as far as he could, pressing the barrel of the gun onto the seatbelt clicker. Counting down from ten, he shot the gun, and the impact shot the clicker off and he fell to the ground from his seat, but only for him to feel a sharp, hot pain in his hip.

“AGGH!”

The driver grabbed his hip, the bullet throbbing inside of his body. Blood began to gush out profusely enough that he knew this was going to become a big problem unless he got it looked at quickly.

So with one hand over his bullet wound and the other hand still gripping the pistol that gave him that very wound, the driver crawled out of the wreckage of the transport vehicle, avoiding glass and shards of metal whenever he could to avoid further damage to his body, which he was mostly successful at.

“Jackpot!” the driver heard someone yell in a thick Brooklyn accent.

A… a thief!

With a grunt of pain, the driver whipped out the pistol and pointed it to the rear of the truck, seeing a blurry man walk out of the back of the truck, looking at his hands thoroughly. He couldn’t make out anything other than a mostly brown form as his eyesight was never any good and he was far away.

“Put your hands in the air!” in defiance, he gripped the pistol harder.

But instead of the panicked look he expected the figure to take on, he just chuckled cockily, putting his hands in the air upon request.

“Your wish is my command, dumbshit!”

And suddenly, a loud ringing came into earshot and the driver was shot through the air by an unknown force, slamming into a mailbox, and knocking the security personnel out instantly.

“Hahah! Oh, yeah, I love my new toys,” the figure exclaimed, taking off down the street upon the noise of distant sirens.

**To Be Continued…**


	7. A Very Special Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's friends with the girl of his dreams, he's got super powers, he doesn't get bullied anymore, he's getting good grades, and it's his birthday! What could go wrong...?

Birds chirping. Trains rumbling. People laughing. They’re sounds of just another morning in the life of a New Yorker.

And for me, that’s no exception. But today, I can’t stick around to enjoy the tranquility of those very sounds. Cause it’s 8:20 AM and I’m already five minutes late to class and I’m just getting close to the school now.

I’ve never really been extremely punctual, I’ll admit. But I usually get to school on time. But I’ve just been sleeping so much lately; it’s hard to wake up from just my alarm, which is a remix of the theme of Megaman. Maybe I should get a Metal remix on Megaman’s theme. That sounds like it’d work.

It’s weird. I don’t ever sleep. And even if I do sleep, I never sleep well. So it’s been pretty good the last few days to just fall on the bed, fall asleep within seconds, and wake up feeling better than ever.

However, today is a different story. Cause with the ol’ Parker luck, you can’t just have something good happen to you. No, no. Now I can sleep well, but I don’t ever get up. I’ll sleep in so much that I miss my damn train when I’m trying to get to Midtown high. But, in contrast to that, now because of weird spider crap, I’m much faster than I was before.

And there I was, running down the sidewalk, weaving my way through oncoming pedestrians who were all periodically giving me dirty looks. In the city that never stops going, everyone who occupied it really seemed like they didn’t want people to go.

Pushing on through the dirty looks, I turned a sharp corner into an alleyway. I knew my school was about a couple blocks down and just running wasn’t doing me any favors. Time was ticking away and a detention slip was just waiting to have my name written down on it.

It was time to kick it up a notch.

Turning back to make sure no one was watching, I hopped up onto the dumpster and leapt to the right grabbing onto the bottom rung of the fire escape, swinging forward so far that I was flying over the alleyway, where I jumped off of the wall and landed on the fire escape on the alleyway on the other side of the street, where I swung back to the ground.

Upon landing, I burst forward, using my newfound strength to propel me to newfound speeds, shooting over the dumpster and to the end of yet another alley, where I jumped up and over the smaller street to land on the adjacent sidewalk. Right to my left was Midtown High. Instead of taking me possibly ten minutes to get here, this took about a minute.

Note to self. Powers are fucking cool.

Still, my new speed didn’t seem like much help when I opened my locker, threw my stuff inside, grabbed my books, and shut it again. And then proceeded to run in into my Chem class, quickly walking to my seat at the back of the room.

“Mr. Parker, as punctual as ever,” I heard the voice of my Chem teacher ring out behind me as I walked up the isle.

I shuffled to my seat, my head down, refusing to meet eyes with him, “I’m sorry, Mr. Michaels. I missed my train this morning and I was complexly being stupid and I-”

“It’s fine just this once, Peter,” Mr. Michaels interrupted and continued to write on the board.

“Oh, and happy birthday.”

…

Huh?

I stopped in the middle of class, realizing something. It was my birthday today. I’m turning seventeen.

“Oh. Right. Thanks,” I said back to Mr. Michaels before taking my seat beside Gwen, who was raising her eyebrow at me.

“Hi,” I greeted her, placing my stuff in the compartment just under the desk, taking out my notepad and pencil.

“Hey birthday boy,” Gwen smiled that brilliant smile that is just hard not to stare at.

I chuckled a little bit, “Yeah. I forgot about that.”

“You forgot your birthday?” Gwen giggled under her breath as to not draw attention from Mr. Michaels, “Sounds like you. How old are you now?”

“Hm? Oh uh… seventeen,” I whispered, furiously scribbling down the notes on the board, biting my tongue to focus.

“Well, you’re legal now,” Gwen murmured, jabbing me in the side for not paying attention to her while we talk. She was right, the age of consent in New York was seventeen, but it’s not like it keeps many people on the ‘righteous path’.

“Oh goodie,” I laughed, “Now I have one less excuse for not having a girlfriend.”

The two of us joked around with each other a little while longer while Chemistry dragged on. I finally caught up with the notes with help from her and I was trying to pay attention when I felt my head buzz just like it did at the train station. And on pure instinct, I moved my head to the left and held my hand up, catching a pen being thrown at me.

“The hell…?” I grumbled and turned back to see Flash and his friend trying to act inconspicuous, but they still had grins plastered on their stupid faces.

On my birthday. On my fucking birthday.

So, as a receipt, when Mr. Michaels turned his back, I quickly spun around on my stool, chucked the pen at him, and spun right back around to face the board. Expecting to get it thrown back to me, I hunched down a little to get ready to catch it once again, but all I heard was a thumping sound, a grunt, and the sound of something scraping the ground.

“What in the world…?” Mr. Michaels and the rest of the class turned around to see Flash Thompson about three feet away from his table at the very back of the room, grabbing his head and searching around for a pen that was on his lap.

…Did I do that?

Heheh.

At about then, the bell rang, and just as I grabbed my stuff, Gwen took ahold of my arm and dragged me out of the room. I noticed that Flash had just gotten himself together and couldn’t help but flip him off on my way out the door.

The two of us avoided Flash the entire day. It was afternoon break this hour and we could hang out a little bit in the field, where Flash was nowhere to be found. I had a free period after this so I could honestly go home, but it’s a better excuse to say I have something to… just, talk with Gwen a little. It was much better that way. If I just avoided him all of today, he’d forget about the pen thing, and he’d find something much less serious to pick on me about. We were walking under a canopy next to a sidewalk at the bottom end of the field. It was quiet, it didn’t have a lot of people in it, and most importantly, jocks were nowhere to be seen. That way I can avoid a beating… or… well…

Could he even hurt me at this point? I mean, I don’t think so. I’ve got the buzzing thing, strength, speed… I hope he doesn’t do anything stupid. Cause I could seriously hurt him.

“I don’t think he’ll show up,” Gwen piped up, as if she had been reading my thoughts. Well, not exactly, we did just book it away from him and I had been quiet, so it wasn’t exactly telepathy but eh.

“Yeah,” I put my hands on the back of my head as we walked through the pathways, “I’m not worried. He’s just a jerk, y’know?”

Gwen nodded, “But enough about him. What are you doing for your birthday?”

In response, I shrugged, “Not anything, I don’t think. Just relax with my family.”

“Well that’s boring,” Gwen frowned.

“Boring? That’s fun. I like relaxing. I like calm. Frantic and panicked is my default state, it’s nice to get a change of pace.”

Gwen waved her hand through the air dismissively, “Boooorring.”

“Ugh,” I shook my head.

“I’m just teasing,” Gwen pat me on the shoulder, “Don’t get all mopey on me. Even though mopey is sort of part of your charm.”

“I have charm?”

Gwen rolled her eyes, “You’re a bit-”

Ffffwwwew…

“Aw, damn it!”

“Come on, bro, this is the third time. The janitor’s gonna kill us!”

The sound of a frisbee flying overhead and the yells of frustrated teenagers come into play as Peter watches the white disk fly overhead and onto the roof of the gymnasium. He’d seen this in previous years so many times over. Kids in the Ultimate Frisbee club get out of hand and everyone has to pay for their shit. Damn kids and their frisbees.

But, looking at their dejected faces as they realized that they’ve screwed the pooch kind of hurt me inside. I was always too sympathetic for my own good.

“Wait here,” I said to Gwen and rushed off to the back of the gymnasium.

“Whuh-hey! Where are you going?” Gwen yelled after me, but I couldn’t turn around. Turning around means giving an explanation and I’m not comfortable having to tell Gwen that I, in fact, do not have webs coming out of my butt yet.

When I made it out of the line of sight of pretty much everyone and made sure there was no one around to watch me, I stood in front of the back of the gymnasium, just staring straight at the wall. I didn’t really understand why I was doing this, and it could be a problem if someone were to catch me, but those kids just looked so sad. And hey, it’s just like the other day right?

So I lifted one hand slowly and pressed it against the wall. Then the other. Then I placed a foot against the wall. Then the other. Just like my ceiling. Just like that telephone pole. And before I knew it, I was about a couple feet off the ground, clinging to the wall just like the other day, crouching down on it as if I were on the ground. And it didn’t feel weird. Just like before, it felt natural.

“Heheh,” I let out something that was a cross between a heavy breath and a laugh. My heart was racing. My blood was pumping. I felt good. No, not just good, I felt great!

So I started moving slowly upwards, using my hands as sort of anchor marks to pull me higher. I remember when I couldn’t even do one pull up back in elementary school and still couldn’t quite get up right for years. Now I’m climbing up the side of a wall and it’s a breeze. It’s easy!

It’s fun!

I moved a little faster than either time I wallcrawled before, making my way steadily up the wall until I came to an air conditioner unit, in which I took a short hop up onto the side and used my newfound flexibility to have my hands never leave a solid surface while I got back down onto the wall. Up and up I went, eventually getting up to the edge, where I pulled myself up into the air and landed gracefully, making sure to hunch down so no one can see me from the ground.

“Hoo hoo!” several excited sounds came from my throat, “Hot damn.”

I saw the frisbee, which was right next to two other much dirtier ones of the same brand, which I can assume were the other two times the frisbee club guy was talking about. I smiled as I picked up the frisbee and crouch-walked my way back to the edge of the rooftop, in which I went down even lower than I was and dropped down to the air conditioning unit-

_Krreeeench!_

Oh shit.

The air conditioning unit’s supports began to whine under my weight and I could feel it pulling away from the wall quicker than I would like. The buzzing in my head, whatever I called it before, spidery sense I think, was going off like crazy. It was like someone grabbing your head, shaking it, and yelling Danger! Danger! over and over again.

My instincts kicked in and I took a short hop onto the wall and bounced off of it, back flipping off and kicking the air conditioner unit back into its slot, before flipping through the air again until I landed on the ground with a soft thump, keeping the frisbee close to my chest as to not accidentally snap it in half or anything like that.

And before I could even appreciate what I had just done, I made sure to check the conditioner, which… unfortunately, had caved in because of my little kick off of it.

Well. That’s a shame.

Before anyone could come and find out what that noise was, I made a quick getaway to the other side of the building, where the frisbee geeks were moping about. I hope I don’t look like that when I mope. Cause that’s just pathetic. I probably do. Damn it.

“Hey guys?” a few of them turned their heads, “Is this your fris-thing? I found it out back.”

“Dude!” they rushed me and took their throwing disk. They said some typical broham things, like ‘Broooo…’ and ‘Mah man’. It was a little awkward, but it was nice regardless.

“No problem, guys. I just-”

But before I knew it, they had gone off to play, and I was forgotten about.

“Right.”

Tch. I don’t know what I was expecting, but a thank you would have been nice.

I guess being a retriever is a thankless job.

Feeling a little bit disappointed, I made my way back to Gwen, who was standing with her hand on her hip. If I didn’t know better, I would have felt like I was about to get chewed the hell out.

“Don’t just run off on me again,” she said, jabbing me in the arm.

Oh right, I don’t know better.

“But that was nice of you. I thought for sure it landed on the roof,” Gwen said to me as we walked back under the canopy.

“Sure looked like it.”

“Hey Parker!”

Oh no.

I slowly turned around and there was Flash with a group of people walking towards me. Their little confident shake and swagger made me nervous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Flash like that and that makes it all the more nerve-wracking.

“Look at ‘im! He’s a fucking little cunt! Heh! Get ‘im!” One of his friends rang out.

“Nice little trick today, Puny Parker,” he walked straight into me, nearly knocking me off my feet from sheer surprise, “You’re a big man, huh? Throwing pens around? Big man. Biiiig man.”

A few teens began to poke their heads out to take a look at the scene, to see if there was anything wrong. Eventually, several filed in to form a circle along with the group Flash brought to watch the pre-emptive slaughter about to take place.

“What? You’re just gonna take that, you piss-soaked faggot? Huh, you fucking homo?” Flash spat down every word at me, his hand pressed against my shoulder, pushing me around as if I were his toy to play with.

Gwen piped up from the crowd, “Flash, go away, all right? You threw the pen first an-”

“Look at that, Parker! Your little bitch has to stand up for you,” Gwen’s eyes popped at the word and she took a few steps forward, but one of her friends in the crowd stopped her, “Are you just gonna whine and cry under Gwen’s nutsack? Huh? Ohhhh waaaaah. Waaaah.”

“Flash, lay off,” I stated, stopping and pushing a little bit back against his hand. I didn’t want to go too far, I could… “It’s my birthday, come on, man.”

“Birthday? Jesus, look at you. Look at you! Look at you, trying to stand up for yourself. You think you’re hot shit cause you’re smart, huh? You wish so hard you were special. You’re not special. You mean nothing to nobody.”

A couple of Flash’s friends began to look uncomfortable in the crowd, but nobody speaks out as Flash continued to push me around. Everyone’s a bystander. Everyone.

“You’re king of the wannabe somebodies, Parker. You’re failing at being worth anything. You must be so validated with your life cause of your little pen trick, huh? You’re nothing. You’re living bacteria. You are a piece of absolute trash. And you’re not just trash, you’re the worst kind of trash, the kind who thinks it’s not trash.”

My fists clenched with every word he threw down at me. When was it going to be enough? When could he realize I just want to be left alone? I want things to be calm. I want to be happy.

“No one wants you around, Peter. No one,” Flash smirked, “Not your parents, not your uncle and aunt, not Gwen-”

Suddenly I grabbed his shirt and lifted him into the air with relative ease. A sudden gasp emanated from out of the crowd.

“What did you say about my parents?” I growled at him.

Flash was a bit startled, but he didn’t show it very much, he just tried to push off of me, but I would not let go. I had a death grip on his jacket.

So, he tried to punch, but the buzzing in my head went off way before he even clenched his fist, so I dodged it and backstepped to get away from his fists. He began to swing wildly, like any one person would who doesn’t know how to fight. So, I dodged several of his punches that came close, but he was able to grab my shirt and kind of pull it over my face. But still, my spider sense alerted me to every incoming strike, and I weaved my way through them, pulling my shirt down.

And finally, when he left himself open, I reared my own hand back and swung my fist like a hammer into his head, and even though I barely glanced him, it knocked him completely limp. The crowd went insane at that, some people were panicking, some people were yelling, and one guy roared ‘WORLD STAR’ at the top of his lungs. People were filming, but I didn’t care.

Flash hit the ground, but bounced right back up to his feet as if it were a trampoline and clumsily rushed me again, only for me to duck down low and launch myself forward, tackling him into a nearby column holding the canopy up, and nearly cracking it from the sheer strength of my tackle.

I rolled away, a little dazed from the fight and I got to my senses. The crowd was going insane, there was whistling in the distance, probably from some coach that didn’t want to get directly involved, and there was Flash, barely conscious with his hands over his head to shield from any blows. Anger pumped through my veins as I scrambled over to him.

“Ungh…” He grunted, trying to say something.

“I asked you a question!” I growled, standing over his body.

“P-Parker, I-” Flash was visibly shaken from the punch, his eyes were glazed over.

_SLAP!_

My hand came down across his face, hitting him against the floor and a resounding ‘OOOO’ rose up from the people there. I grabbed his jacket, pulled him up easily with my new strength, and I pressed him against the column.

I began to growl my words into Flash’s ear, seeing his face already start to swell, “You talk to me when I talk to you. Never mention my parents again. Never talk about my family. Never talk about my friends. You will never talk to me, you understand that? I will hurt you.”

This wasn’t me. I wasn’t normally like this. But I had never been more angry in my life. I couldn’t keep letting this happen. I had to make it clear even if I was… I was toying with him. I have all this power. And I’m just toying with him cause I can.

I remembered something my Uncle said to me once. It was

I let him go. It took me a moment, but when I met eyes with Gwen, she just looked horrified. Not impressed. Not happy. Just scared.

I can’t take this anymore.

I grabbed my bag I had left with Gwen and then stormed off through the crowd and down the field. And while going down there, I stomped on and broke the frisbee that the club left there to watch and do nothing.

~

Cold air that smells of sunflowers.

It was late by the time I decided to head home. It had just turned dark, so the night was still illuminated. Street lights flickered occasionally as I walked by them and dogs barked in the distance. A typical night in Queens, New York.

I hadn’t done much when I left school. I let Aunt May know I was going to be back a little later as I wanted to go somewhere after school and then I decided to head by the junkyard, but found I didn’t have the motivation to do acrobatics or lift heavy objects. I wanted to forget about my powers for a little while. They’re not going to use anyway.

So I headed downtown and headed to some of the places that I frequented often. I went to the video game store, comic book shop, coffee place, and so on and so forth. It was nice, but I couldn’t get my mind off of what happened earlier.

Things were changing a little too fast. A week ago I was floundering about my life. The last friend I had went off to some foreign exchange school. I’d never talked to a girl longer than a minute or two. I sure as hell didn’t have any super powers. But one spider bite later and here I am, beating the hell out of bullies, hanging out with a nerdy hot chick, and spidered out.

I shouldn’t be thinking about this stuff on my birthday. While birthdays had never been particularly special for me in the past, they’d never been this shitty.

Before I knew it, I was heading up the two wooden stairs leading to my front porch. Each step I took creaked, but I decided to take a second to look inside through the small window next to the door. It was dark.

Oh great. They had an early night. On my birthday. Awesome. Just plain awesome.

I groaned, rubbed my eyes, and opened the door to get it over with. I wasn’t going to be quiet. If they wake up, that’ll be a good way to say ‘Fuck you’ for going to bed on-

“SURPRISE!”

Whuh-!

The lights suddenly turned on and I yelped as a whole crowd of different people stood up and yelled at me. A few streamers went off and someone uncorked a bottle on some sparkling cider.

I flinched and held my hands up in the air to defend myself from… uh… I guess the oncoming onslaught of laughter and cake. Everyone in the room immediately began pissing themselves laughing. I had to crack a nervous smile myself, even with my heart going approximately 50,000 beats per millisecond.

“Wh-what’s going on?” I already knew the answer to that question, but I felt I should probably ask it anyway. You know, for dramatic effect and all.

Aunt May walked out and smiled, touching my arm, “A surprise birthday party, silly. What else it would be?”

A cunning assassination plot in most comics I read.

I breathed a sigh of relief, letting the tension in my body loose, and then I leaned down to give her a hug, “Awh. Thanks Aunt May. This is really cool.”

Aunt May shook her head, “Not me, Mr. Parker. Ben did all the work. I’m just your host for the evening.”

Uncle Ben was standing off to the side, but he decided to come forward, where he was smiling his big satisfied grin he always had when he knew he did something right. I’d seen that grin too many times after losing arguments to him to like it, but after this shitty day, all I could do was smile and hug him.

“Thanks, Uncle Ben,” was all I could muster.

With a few pats on my back, he chuckled, “Heh. You’re welcome, kiddo.”

And then he pulled me away, held my shoulders, and with that big dumb grin on his face, he said, “Now, let’s enjoy your party.”

Almost as if on cue, some music started playing, a couple more bottles were opened, the TV was turned on, and the party was a go.

A lot of people were here, but I didn’t know a whole lot of them as well as I probably should. There were mostly family friends and neighbors that were here. And for the next little while, I mingled with them. I answered pointless little questions like how old I was turning, how the new school year was treating me, what I’m planning to do after highschool, all that good stuff.

Normally I’d hate this kind of thing, but it really wasn’t bad. I actually had a lot of fun. I had some cake, some cookies (which were my favorites, oatmeal raisin), some punch, I watched a bit of football even though I don’t like football or… sports in general really, and I played a party game or two. It was shaping up to be a good night.

Eventually, I was standing next to Uncle Ben and we were watching The Daily Show. It was pretty funny. Those of us who were watching TV were having a good giggle and everyone else seemed to be smiling or laughing.

“Hey son?” I looked up at Ben, “You mind coming with me a second? We’re probably going to do gifts any minute now and I’d like to get mine out of the way first. It’s kind of a special thing.”

“Oh, yeah, okay. Sure. Where to, pops?” I asked and Uncle Ben gestured for me to follow him. I did as asked, downing the rest of my punch and throwing it in the garbage bin next to me.

We approached the stairway upstairs when my Aunt stopped me, “Hey Peter, do you have a moment?”

“I’m kind of busy with Uncle Ben at the moment. What’s the matter?” I pointed to said uncle, who stopped at the stairway and was waiting for me.

“You know my friend Anna?” I nodded; she was a neighbor, “Good. So, she brought along her nice niece along with her tonight and she wanted you two to meet.”

My shoulders sagged, I don’t want to meet some trashy niece and pretend to be nice to her on a night like this, “Um… that sounds great and all, but, the whole other thing and… gotta go, gye!”

“Wait, Peter!” Aunt May called after me, but Ben and I were already rushing up the stairs to escape that.

Ben laughed a little bit, “Smooth, kid. Real smooth.”

I rolled my eyes, but he led me into my bedroom, in which he told me to sit down, and I obliged. He pulled up my desk chair and sat in front of me.

“So…”

Uncle Ben grew quiet for a few moments and the mood suddenly changed. It went from somewhat frantic, happy, but still relaxed to tense and foreboding. I was a little shell-shocked to be honest. This didn’t feel right.

“Do you remember when you first came here? To live with us, I mean?” He asked.

I nodded, “I remember it really well. I think about it a lot.”

“Yeah. It was the last time you saw your parents. Then we played Monopoly and had oatmeal raisin cookies and milk,” bringing up this topic all of a sudden pained me a bit, “They left you your father’s glasses, your mother’s necklace, and a few of your toys. They took your blankie with them.”

Another silence.

“We’ve talked about your inheritance before. You get it when you turn eighteen, right?”

Again, I nodded.

“There was… another thing that they told us to do,” my stomach began to rumble.

And then he reached into his jacket and slowly pulled out an envelope. It was obviously old, the once-white paper had grown yellowish and the edges were frayed. And there, in the center, was a half-piece of wax, as the rest had obviously been ripped off. They must’ve read the letter sometime before.

“It’s a letter. From your mom.”

Time seemed to stop. My ears began grew hot. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

“The lawyers said to wait until you’re ready and wanted to read it, I guess that means eighteen, but I think you’re more than equipped to handle this,” and with that, he handed me the letter.

I gently took it from his hand with my own. Holding it up, I stared at it for what seemed like for a while. Even though it was one pull away from being read, my mind still ran through all the possibilities of what this letter could be. A letter detailing my inheritance? A legal letter? Something else?

Shaking, I pulled the paper out of the envelope and placed it next to me on the bed. The paper was dusty and felt like it had begun to degrade. And in beautiful cursive, there was a whole page worth of writing from… from my Mom.

A glimpse of her face ran through my mind. Short hair. Tanned skin. Her name was Mary. She had a brilliant smile. I remember her the least. But I loved her so much.

Richard was my Dad. Greying hair. Fair skin. He worked a lot, I remember that, but he was always a great dad. Aunt May always tells me I look so much like him. I’ve seen pictures and I see the resemblance. Everyone tells me he was a good man.

Something that sounded like I was stammering out a word came from my throat. I couldn’t believe this was real. For years and years I tried to find things of theirs, to grasp onto anything. To remember any part of them. And I couldn’t. But now, after I’ve completely gotten over them… here’s this letter. Dropped into my lap.

And I began to read.

_Dear Peter,_

_How are you, sweetie? If you’re anything less than amazing, then hopefully, this letter does something to perk you up a little bit._

_As you know, I’m no longer here with you. As I’ve written this long before anything has happened, I don’t know why I’m dead. However, I hope its old age and that I died peacefully so that it doesn’t hurt you._

_Right now, I am waiting for you to fall asleep in your little cradle. You are absolutely adorable. You’re holding your little blankie and moving around. You’re such a good baby. You never cry._

_Your father’s just gone to bed. I’ll join him after I write this letter to you in the future. We wrote our wills a couple days ago and they encouraged us to write letters to you on the occasion that we die. It apparently would make things easier for you. Your father had none of it. He was always stubborn. I hope you don’t get that from him._

_They say that we should write this as if we were going to die tomorrow and wanted to leave something for you. I don’t know what to tell you._

_All I know is that when I heard that I was pregnant, I had never been more scared in my entire life. Your father’s a good man, but I wasn’t sure if he was ready for a child. But when I told him and he had that smile on his face, I knew I picked the right man. I was still worried; your father’s a busy man who has been working on the same project for years and years with Carl and Norman. But he changed all of that._

_And when you were born, I realized I have never loved anything more in my entire life. I can’t bear the thought of not watching you grow up into the handsome young man I am assured you are. I hope I did. I hope I was a good Mom. I hope Richard was a good Dad. I want you to know that no matter what happens, we tried our best, and we’re right there with you._

_With all my love,_  
_Mom._

My chest tightened and tears welled up in my eyes as I placed the letter on the envelope beside me. I couldn’t process everything at once. After all these years, finally, I have something to remember her by. To remember my mom. But it doesn’t matter now.

“Why?” I stammered out.

Uncle Ben’s eyebrows rose, “What?”

“Why am I only seeing this now? Huh?” I asked, my voice cracking, “I don’t need this now. I don’t. Life may be shitty at times, but things are going well for me. I needed it through all the years I cried myself to sleep because all I wanted was my mommy back. All the times I saw other kid’s parents and wished that mine would come back. That was when I needed it. Why wait? Why?!”

Uncle Ben was shocked and tried to reply, “Peter, you have to understand, this kind of thing may have broken you. That letter was power. We had power and we couldn’t use it just cause we wanted to. With great power, comes great responsibility, I’ve told you this. We-”

I stood up all of a sudden, “I decide that! I decide it! I decide what happens to that power! That’s my letter! This was my mother’s last thing to tell me! I needed this when I was a kid! I needed it!”

“Peter, please listen to me, your father didn’t want you to read this until-” my Uncle

“Don’t talk about my father!” the anger I felt with Flash earlier today flared up, “You don’t know what he wanted! You’re not my father!”

Uncle Ben’s mouth hung open, “Kiddo…”

“Don’t kiddo me. Don’t say anything,” I ran my hands through my hair as tears fell to the ground, “I-I’m leaving.”

Uncle Ben reached out to me as I walked past him to my door, “What do you mean you’re leaving? Where? Peter, please, calm down and let’s talk! Peter!”

_Slam._

I wasn’t sure exactly how it happened, but I ran downstairs, trying my best to maintain my composure as I pushed through a small crowd of people, opened the door, and walked out into the night to… to get away from it all.

~

It was a little bit later in the evening when I had finally calmed down a little bit. I had been trying to clear my thoughts, I’d been crying, it hadn’t been a lot of fun. It was cold, fall was about to set in, which meant snow was right around the corner. Snow’s a bit of a bitch when it comes down to living in New York. It’s hard enough getting around in cramped subways and sweaty buses, we didn’t need it take twice as long and have twice as many accidents. I wasn’t planning on going back for a while. I don’t know if I could face my Uncle or my Aunt for a while. I didn’t want to entertain anyone. I just wanted to be alone. I wanted things to be calm. I always want things to be calm.

During my time out I’d gotten myself a Snapple and stopped by the junkyard for a little bit to just think about my powers. Why I had them. I really did feel at home here. It was quiet. I had one of my defining moments here. I realized I didn’t need the ground anymore. I could be free from all the shitty confines of teenage life.

And yeah, I know, I sound like an angsty little jerk, but I’m having a tough time. Leave me be.

It was times like this I wish Harry was still around. I could always talk to him about stuff like this. Hell, even that weird kid Eddie who used to hang around us back when we were kids would be nice to see. But I don’t even know where he is. And my only other friend I still have is horrified because I stood up for myself for once.

I haven’t thought about it for a long time, but I miss my parents. I really do. I miss my mom. I just want to tell her thanks for the letter. It was really nice.

It was when I had returned to the streets of New York and passed by someone who shared these streets that my little patch of peace this night was taken away by an unwelcome sound.

“Peter?! Peter! Is that you?”

Damn.

I didn’t even turn back. I didn’t even look at him. I just took off running until I got to an alleyway, in which I jumped onto the wall and leapt off to the other one, where I climbed up to the top and held still, hoping he’d run by and not notice me. Cause if he did notice me… well I’d have a lot more explaining to do than I already have.

I put my back to the wall and let my feet cling there, while I buried my face in my hands, just waiting for this to be over. I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted Ben to go away. Just please. Go away. Leave me be.

“Peter?”

The voice hadn’t gotten closer though. He hadn’t moved. I expected steps to follow me. I expected to see him down in the alleyway. Where…?

“Peter? Why are… Oh. Oh my god.”

What’s going on?

“Sir, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else. I’m looking for my boy, Peter. Here, just, just take this. Take it. I don’t care. Please. I need to find my boy, Peter. I need to bring him back-”

_**BLAM!** _

…

Uncle Ben?

I immediately looked out over to see someone down the street standing over someone else. I didn’t want to look it was. I… I… oh no.

I didn’t even think about it, I jumped down, and took off in a full on sprint. The next thing I knew, I was standing over the person and I looked at the man in the hoodie. I couldn’t see who it was… but it flashed into my mind. I knew this hoodie.

That day. Hot dog stand. He had a gun. I turned away.

And in an instant, he had run off down the street and disappeared before I could do anything.

Oh God. I don’t want to look down. Please please please let this not be happening…?

“P-Peter…?”

Oh god no.

I dropped to my knees and looked at the man. It wasn’t a man. It was Ben. He-he was lying there. And he was breathing hard. An-and he was holding his side. Oh god. Oh no. That’s blood on the sidewalk. There’s so much of it. No no no.

I gently placed his head and placed him on my knee, acting as a pillow. I was hyperventilating. I couldn’t breathe. Oh God. So much blood.

A few people had come out to see what was going on. They just stood there shocked. Pure emotion welled up inside me like searing metal.

“Call an ambulance! Someone call the police! Please! He’s hurt! Please!”

I saw a few people take out their phones. I heard them talking. I didn’t pay attention.

“Uncle Ben, Uncle Ben…”

He gasped, “Peter…”

“You’re gonna be okay. See? Help’s coming. Help. Help. Oh god. Uncle Ben.”

“Peter…” He breathed out again.

Oh no. His blood began to seep over his own hand covering the wound. I whipped off my jacket in a flash and moved his hands out of the way, bunching the fabric up and using it to keep the blood inside. I could barely see, there were so many tears clouding everything up…

“You’re going to be fine. Look, see? The blo-blood… there’s so much. Oh no. Uncle Ben…”

“Peter…”

There were sirens in the distance. The ambulance was just about to pull up. Help was coming.

“P-Peter…” He grabbed ahold of my arm, his blood smearing into my skin, “I-I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m s-s…”

And then… he went limp.

“Uncle Ben?”

Nothing.

“Uncle Ben… Uncle Ben?”

I felt a hand grab my shoulder, “Kid, you need to move out of the way.”

“Uncle Ben…”

“Oh Jesus… I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up! He’s fine. Uncle Ben? Come on, Uncle Ben. Wake up. Please. Please wake up. Oh god. Please don’t take him away. Please don’t take him.”

“Kid, he’s gone. We have to-”

I shook off his hand and held Uncle Ben in my arms.

_Happy Birthday to You…_

“He’s not gone! He’s not gone! Uncle Ben! Stay with me, Uncle Ben! Uncle Ben!”

_Happy Birthday to You…_

I felt myself being pulled away. Even with all my power, all my strength, I couldn’t hold onto him forever.

_Happy Birthday Dear Peter…_

“Get off of me! Get off! No! Uncle Ben!”

_Happy Birthday to You…_

“UNCLE BEN!”

**To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my proudest works. On fanfiction.net, a user named Agent Brad Hall gave me feedback that nearly brought me to tears -
> 
> In all the iterations I've seen, and there have been a lot of them, I have never seen the story of Uncle Ben's death told so mortifying and real. I knew it was going to happen, but it hurt me when it did. That hasn't happened since I saw the first Spider-Man movie for the first time, and that was thirteen years ago. That was so awesome.
> 
> That really got to me. Thank you for reading.


	8. Breaking Down Slowly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He won't let him get away. He won't.

_Three Weeks Later…_

The whirring of a fan and the sounds of a television are the only things making any noise in a little office in downtown New York City. The early morning light peered in through the open window into the lofty room. On the TV, there was a re-run of Seinfeld playing, with George Costanza getting exasperated about something, like he always does. And guess what? Jerry was getting exasperated as well. And Elaine was calm, but her exasperating was intensifying as well. The fan was blowing room-temperature air all over the person on the couch, who was lazily holding the remote control, somewhat giggling at the jokes on screen.

This man was bald and clean-shaven, wearing a tank top and jeans, with a few tattoos on his body, including a scorpion on his right shoulder. He was tall, muscular, and he had brown eyes that were the color of melted milk chocolate. He wasn’t a bad looking, but he wasn’t exactly a Cadillac among men. All in all, this was sort of an average scene you would see any self-employed New Yorker in.

And that’s when the phone rang.

“Hrnh? What the hell?” the man, roused from his daydreaming-like state grunted out a few words and realized his work phone was ringing.

He scurried up off of the couch, tripping over his cheap coffee table on his way to his desk, grabbing the phone in a hurry on the last possible ring and held it to his ear.

“Uh-ah, hello, this is MacDonald Gargan, private investigator. How can I help you?”

A gruff voice of a middle aged man nearly shouted out, “Mr. Gargan? Are you sure that’s you?”

“Uh…” Gargan had to hold in a chuckle, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Who’s callin’?”

“I’m J. Jonah Jameson of the Daily Bugle. Have you heard of me?”

Gargan’s eyes lit up, “Oh, yeah I have, Mr. Jameson. What can I help you with?”

Jameson seemed to feel a little satisfied at that; “I’ll get straight to the point. Have you heard of this vigilante mad man going around recently? Beatin’ on petty burglars and citizens?”

Gargan frowned a little bit. He had heard of a vigilante, but he heard that this guy just turned over some people to the police. He didn’t hear of any citizen beatings or anything like that.

“Sure, what about him?” he questioned.

“Well, Mr. Gargan, the Daily Bugle’s always looking for another headline, and finding out a vigilante’s identity is one hell of a headline for the press! I’ll be hailed as a hero, goddammit.”

He rolled his eyes, “Are you asking me to go and find out who the vigilante is?”

“I heard you were smart, Mr. Gargan. Yes, I want to hire you for your services. I need this vigilante found out and I think you’re the man to do it for me. I heard your services come chea-uh, guaranteed. Is that true?”

Holy shit.

A job.

“Yes! Yes they do, Mr. Jameson. Absolutely.”

He could hear audibly Jameson slamming his fist on his own desk, “Great. So let’s talk about payment.”

After going through some basic stuff, Gargan was absolutely elated. He hadn’t had a legitimate investigation since he started this damn agency after getting back from Iraq. He had to go look for puppies and track down cheating lovers and other stupid shit like that. But this? This is amazing!

“Great, Mr. Gargan. I look forward to doing business with y-Goddammit Betty, this isn’t black. You put some namby-pamby creamer in this damn coffee, didn’t you!?”

“Uh… right, Mr. Jameson. And please…”

Gargan grinned.

“My friends call me Mac.”

“…Well I’m not your damn friend, Gargan. Now get me results! I expect updates every day. Goodbye.”

And he hung up.

~

_Bdeee…_

“This damn thing…”

_Bdeee…_

“Come on… just fucking work…”

_Bdeee…_

“…This is some stupid… stupid… grrrh!”

_Bdeee…_

“Just shoot, dammit! Shoo-”

_THWAP!_

I leaned back in my chair, pulled off my goggles, and raised both hands into the air, yelling like a madman in triumph. I finally got the damn thing to work! After two horrid weeks, I finally got this stupid thing to shoot a damn web!

I look down at my two little creations. They were bracers, of sorts, that had rectangular compartments and a little thing at the end to press on, but they weren’t just any bracers, they were bracers that shot webs.

Yeah. I’ve been busy.

I stood up in my room and looked at my desk. I had shit all over it. Everything from last night’s dinner to my laptop to schoolwork to my webshooters. It was the product of a week’s worth or boredom followed by two weeks of work.

Since my birthday three weeks ago, I haven’t gone to school much. I’ve only really gone to pick up work I’ve missed. It’s been a little hard to keep up with everything, but I’ve always done very well in school, so I’ve managed. Aunt May’s wanted me home to be able to keep her company during this really hard time and I don’t think I could’ve really faced my classmates these past weeks without completely shutting down.

However, that changes today. Everything changes today. Now that I got these babies working just in time, everything’s going to change.

Just in time for what, you’re asking? Well…

I leaned over the desk and pulled off a little blanket tarp covering a whiteboard and there, I had various pictures of people fitting the description of a redheaded, pale man in a grey hoodie who have been committing crimes for the past while. I call it my ‘hit-board’ and I’ve already crossed nearly every target off the list. I’ve checked every database possible, I’ve done everything to find the men on this board and I have done so. I have taken nearly every one of these men out. Except one.

Dennis Carradine. The man who shot my Uncle Ben.

I’m coming after him.

And why did I make webshooters you ask? Well, that’s a bit complicated. A week and a half ago I went out to find one of the men on this board, a man by the name of Fred Myers. He was very athletic and hard to catch, apparently he was a former baseball player, so I guess he was used to running away from people. And while my speed is faster than most other people, I don’t know the city as well as everyone else. I completely lost him, but I realized near the end he wasn’t the person I was looking for. His hair color was wrong and so was his eye color. He wasn’t even that pale.

I can’t let that happen with Carradine. I won’t.

So for the past while, I’ve been working on these almost exclusively. I still went out at nights and did my thing, but I needed a way to get around faster. To be better. And when I wasn’t working on these and wasn’t out, I was practicing swinging from the cable on the telephone pole at the junkyard. I already had an idea of how to do it, but I needed to make sure I could. And I did.

Why didn’t I just get a driver’s license you ask? Well, too much work. And I don’t plan on driving anytime soon.

So, webshooters it is.

It’s not actually web either. It’s a compound that can be shot out and stick to any surface. It’s somewhat similar to concrete, but it’s sticky and, well, it’s very similar to web. It’s made out of a lot of different chemicals and materials, but I don’t want to go into the whole list right now. It’s a hassle. But I have whole buckets of this crap.

That beeping earlier… what was it…?

I checked around my room until my eyes landed on my phone. The alarm was in sleep mode and… oh. It’s 7:50. It’s about ten minutes after I should’ve been getting ready for school. And… I haven’t slept. In two days. Great.

You know, why is it that every time I try to get my life together, it almost always ends up with me being late for school?

In a matter of minutes, I was in clothes and completely ready for school, but I was still running pretty late. I grabbed my bag and, hesitating for a moment, I shoved my webshooters inside as well and ran down the stairs. And there was Aunt May, setting out my breakfast.

“Oh hello dear, how are you?” she asked.

I couldn’t stick around, but I noticed her eyes had heavy bags under them. She must not have slept much either. It was a pattern for the both of us these past weeks. And with one person gone, there was additional work that had to be done, and on top of her nursing job, this must’ve been pretty hard for her. I felt bad.

I’ll make it up to you when I get that bastard, Aunt May. I swear. It’ll all be good then.

“I’m okay, Aunt May. Gotta go! I’m late!”

“Oh. Okay, see you later! When you get back, call me, I’ll be at work!”

I ran out the door and yelled back, “Okay! Bye!”

Through the streets I ran, over the homeless, through the alleyways, and into the subway station I went, but it was all for naught. I missed it by a few minutes. By just that much. Damn.

I walked out of the station, somewhat resigned to my fate of missing my first class, when I realized I had something jingling around my bag that seems to have the entire purpose of making me go a little faster. Yeah, sure this may not be the time to test this kind of stuff out, but it can’t hurt now. Either way I’ll be late.

I ran off into an alleyway, and in just a few moments, I had my red mask on with the eyes covered over with sunglasses. It wasn’t always a great mask, but it did the job, and there was no real reason to change it. I’ll be done with all this stupid stuff soon.

I leapt up onto the wall. In the last few weeks I’d gotten very used to climbing. And in another few moments, I had already made my way up the wall, and was on the rooftop of the building. I had a good view over a bit of the city, but of course there were bigger buildings that blocked me from having a perfect view. I’d never liked heights before and obviously, with a new lease on life, that’s all changed. As have a lot of things. Honestly, everything has. I don’t know if that change is for better or for worse, but I have to live with it.

And there, I stood at the edge of the rooftop, facing toward of the direction of my school. It’s not a big enough building that if I fell I would die, at least, with my powers. But it still will hurt. But if I did hit a car that was coming at full speed at me, it probably would kill me. Or at least cripple me. So let’s not do that. It’s a good building to test on though. I guess.

“All right… fwoofh… okay. Okay. All right. Okay. All right.”

I stretched out my arms and wound them in circles, keeping my eyes forward and on the prize. There were only two things I had to remember. Hold on tight and don’t fuck up. Honestly, both of those are easier said than done. But I’ll be damned if my webshooters fail me.

So, I stuck out my hand, and I used my thumb to press the lever, but it didn’t really work very well. I couldn’t get enough pressure on it to actually get the thing to work. My middle finger didn’t do it. And my ring finger didn’t. But, when I pressed the lever down to my palm with both my ring finger and middle finger, the web shot out at top speed.

Being surprised, I let go of the lever and didn’t hold onto the web, but it did hit the building opposite of me. Heh. It worked. And it shot like a goddamn gun with less kick. And I doubt my web fluid hurts as much as a bullet either, but still, it worked like a charm.

Once more I shot out a web above me and held onto it tight. It was taut and it definitely would swing me if I jumped off this rooftop… well, not if, but when. And I guess the answer to when would be… right… about… give me a second.

Right… about… now!

And I jumped.

Whooaaaahhh!

I held on to the web with both hands and swung down through the air and then suddenly back up. It was exhilarating. Everything was going so fast, the ground was a blur under me, and my body was slicing through the wind as if it were a knife. The cables I tested this out on didn’t do it justice. It really is true. I didn’t need the ground anymore.

But, it didn’t really feel great when I didn’t let go and all I did was swing around until I hit the side of the building with a thump. There were a few businessmen having a meeting who turned to look at me and were absolutely flabbergasted. If I weren’t deathly scared of falling, I probably would’ve waved.

Okay. You can’t just hang here, spider. Gotta keep making your web. Gotta keep swinging. Gotta go fast.

Then, I took one hand off the web and shot it at a building diagonal of me, held on tight, and pushed off the building. This one swung me even lower and higher, but instead of holding on, I shot another web at the top of the swing, held on tight, and let go of the previous web.

It soon became a rhythm of sorts. I was going steady. Go down, go up, shoot a web, let go, go down, go up, etc. You just follow the steps. And soon, I was swinging high above the ground. I didn’t look down, but I did hear enough commotion to know that people did in fact notice me. I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not. Never cared for a lot of attention.

And all of a sudden, I was just going through the motions, but when I shot a web, I didn’t hold onto it, but I did let go of the web. And for a split second, I was falling through the air and I felt my heart drop down to my stomach. In a millisecond, I thought ‘I’m gonna die’ at least twenty times before my spider sense rang like a bell and my brain forced my hand to shoot another web, which it held onto. And I was back to swinging.

Jesus Christ. Fucking shit. Pooper scooper. I don’t think I’ve ever been as close to shitting myself in my entire life. I was close to pissing myself too, but, sadly, I have been that close before. I used to wet the bed a lot. I stopped in the last few years but it would just happen. It became a problem. I worked through it. I’m a big boy.

Soon, after knowing that my spider sense would most likely save me from inevitable death if I made a mistake, I was a little more confident in my swinging. Instead of short little swings like before, I was taking long, fast ones. And instead of going from web to web, I would swing, jump off of the web, and then shoot another in mid-air.

For the first time in my life, I legitimately felt like a fucking badass. Look at me! I’m swinging! From webs! Hahah!

Finally, I came close to my school, and to stop myself, I shot a web a bit lower than myself, swung way down low, nearly grazing some of the cars, swung back up, and pushed up into the air, throwing my body backward, and then landed on a wall in an alleyway after performing a backflip.

Making sure no one saw, I dropped down, put my webshooters away, took my mask off, and booked it inside. Surprisingly, I wasn’t late yet. And after I threw all my stuff into my locker and took out my Chemistry stuff for my first period of the day, I rushed into the class just as the bell rang.

“Wh-oh. Mr. Parker,” Mr. Michaels was obviously surprised to see me as were a lot of other people in the class, “You grace us with your presence. And by the skin of your teeth. Business as usual, hm?”

“Ah… yeah. Yeah I’m here. Hi, Mr. Michaels,” he didn’t answer, but I grabbed my stuff and booked it to my seat, but I nearly stopped dead when I saw Gwen there, who was also staring right back at me.

Last time I saw her, she was scared of me. And then after that… my uh… my birthday happened. She must know about it. Her dad’s a police officer or something. Most everyone here must know about it, it was on the news. I don’t know if I can talk about it yet.

I gulped.

Setting everything down, I took out my notebook and placed it on the table. Before writing anything down, I sheepishly turned to her and smiled.

“Hi.”

“Hey Peter.”

With her sweet smile, all of my worries went away in an instant. It was the most comforting act of kindness I’d received in my entire life and she wasn’t even trying to be nice. Damn it, Gwen. I think I like you a little bit too much.

“Um…” I sputtered out something, “Sorry for not showing up to club meetings.”

Gwen giggled a little, “You’re one of a kind, Mr. P.”

I scoffed, “Mr. P? What am I, a soda brand? A washed up comedian? A pornstar?”

“Yes.”

“Right.”

We both laughed a little. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel… tense. Worried. Sad. I don’t know what feeling I’d call this. But it feels good. Real good.

“Uh… Pete,” Gwen got my attention, “I um… are you okay? You know… with everything?”

I knew what she was talking about. I kinda wished she hadn’t brought it up, but at the same time, it meant something coming from her, that she actually cared about how I was doing. It sounds weird, but currently, I’ve got three things that I know are concrete in my life right now. Finding Dennis, Aunt May, and Gwen. That’s a big deal. Gwen basically replaced… replaced him after he passed.

“Um. I don’t know. Maybe. I’ll get better,” I told her the truth.

Gwen nodded slowly, “You look a lot better.”

“Since when?”

“You don’t know this, but when you came to the precinct to answer questions and everything, I was there. I was picking up my dad when it happened. I saw you. I… Yeah,” Gwen explained.

“Yeah.”

Chemistry proceeded as normal. Almost nothing changed, really. I didn’t feel behind, I didn’t feel lost. It was business as usual here in Midtown High.

Until, of course, right after class, when Flash approached me. I tensed up. I was ready to go if he was. If I could avoid it, I would. I don’t want Gwen to look at me like-

“Hey Parker?” Flash shoved his hands in his pockets and had trouble meeting my eyes, “I just wanna say… sorry about your Uncle, man. I’m really sorry.”

…H-huh?

“Um…”

Why should I thank you for that, Flash? Tell me one reason why. Because I’m struggling to think of a reason I should give you any peace offering. You tried to fight me on my birthday for Christ’s sake. The same day that my Uncle passed. You don’t deserve any kindness from me. Go curl up in a hole somewhere and stay there.

…Is what I wanted to say. But I’m a bigger man than Flash. I know I am.

“Thanks, Flash. Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Flash just nodded and looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just patted me on the shoulder and walked off. I flinched the moment he made contact with me, but I don’t think he or anyone else noticed. I hope.

Gwen, who had been next to me, pipes up, “That was big of you, Pete.”

“Uh yeah, I guess,” I replied with a shrug.

She smiled, but then she remembered something, and made sure that I knew about it through slapping my arm through my jacket a couple times.

“What?”

“I just remembered something I wanted to ask you.”

I feigned acceptance of what was coming next, “Yes, I am a reptilian shapeshifter sent from space to mate with every man I see.”

“Would explain why you’re such a fag,” the two of us burst out laughing as she finished her sentence.

I would like to make a disclaimer; Gwen is not normally that offensive with her humor. She also has no problem with the gay community. But she’s just so cute when she tries something different that I always let it slide.

“Okay,” I wiped my eyes, “Okay. Woofh. What is it?”

“Huh? Oh right. Um…” Gwen looked a little shy all of a sudden.

“Damn it, I knew it. You’re also a reptilian shape shifter. Well, guess we’re destined to do battl-”

I was rewarded for my poor attempt at humor with another slap to the arm.

“Shut up,” she took a deep breath, “You wanna, like, hang out after school?”

“Can’t, sorry.”

…

“Well that was pretty quick,” Gwen pouted.

I did this sort of half-shrug, “I said I was sorry! I have plans tonight. And they’re taking up my entire day.”

“Ohh. A date?” Gwen inquired, turning her back to me and beginning to walk down the hall. I followed close behind.

“Date? Gwen, do you know who I am?” I laughed.

“A cute, geek boy. Nerds are hot, Pete. Girls like nerds.”

It was a good thing I was standing behind her as my face became the color of a tomato in less than a second after hearing the words come out of her mouth.

“Y-yeah, well… shut up even,” I couldn’t think of a good comeback, “Besides, it’s not a date. There’s a family friend I have to visit.”

“Oh,” she became a little less tense, “Who’s the family friend?”

I caught on to what was happening right then and walked up a little faster to go beside her, “Is that jealousy I’m hearing, Ms. Gwendolyn Stacy?”

“Jealousy?” Gwen scoffed, “The only thing I’m jealous of is your ability to cock up a situation as well as you do.”

“I was thinking of cocking something with someone tonig-” another slap to the arm followed by a punch.

“You’re a jerk.”

“I know what you are but what am I?”

Gwen rolled her eyes and put her face in her hands, “Oh my God, you are like the most immature little-”

“Look, Gwen,” I said, “There’s just someone I have to visit tonight. I promise it’s not one of my hundred hoes I have on dial.”

“I don’t care if it’s a girl! I don’t!” Gwen nearly shouted, but we were pretty much alone in the hall.

“I didn’t say you did,” I was doing my best to not cackle at the steam that was ready to shoot out of her ears at any moment.

“Okay, whatever, go fuck your “family friend”. See if I care!” Gwen huffed and stormed off.

I yelled after her, “Text me!”

“Screw you!”

“That’s what she was planning o-”

My spider sense warned me just in time to block the incoming pencil bag. I was laughing my ass off at this point.

Jesus, I think I’m falling in love with that woman and it’s only been a month and a while. God help me.

**To Be Continued…**


	9. They Got Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen:  
> Hey Pete, I know its late but I have to tell you about something. My dads a cop remember and he told me they got the guy who killed ur uncle!!!! Cleetis Cassidy? I think thats what he said. Call me!!!!!!! :))))

It was much later in the day at this point. The night was whistling, with cars and trains rumbling around. This city didn’t miss a beat, even when it got dark. It’s like they say; this city never sleeps. And to be fair, nowadays, I don’t either.

The school day had been pretty uneventful other than the morning. I got home quick and spent some time with Aunt May before heading up to my room and sneaking out. It got dark right around the time I arrived on this rooftop, and by the time I was dressed in my costume of sorts, consisting of a dark red long sleeved shirt with a large black spider logo on the chest (it was sort of ruined by an energy drink advertisement on the upper back), my dark red mask with my sunglasses, jeans, fingerless wool gloves, and boots, it was already pitch black, with only the bright lights of the city to illuminate the dark for me. Everything felt right. The city wanted me to do this. The city’s pulse egged me on.

I checked my gloves, which I modified so that I could shoot my webs through them, to make sure things weren’t going to malfunction and shot a few webs at the ground. It occurred to me that a short burst of a web could make a great projectile if Carradine brings a gun and it escalates further than it needs to.

…Where was it going to go exactly, I couldn’t say yet. I’ll figure it out when I get there.

So then, all there was left, was to jump.

~

In the dankest spot of an alleyway, Dennis Carradine was lighting up a smoke after paying for his “shipment”. He had his paper bag, he had Chinese waiting for him at home, with reruns of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia going all night tonight. It was gonna be a fuckin’ good night. He deserved it after his last haul; that’s how you bring in the dough.

After the smoke had finally caught fire, he started forward, stumbling around a little bit. He may or may not have gotten a few drinks at the boss’s, hell, Fisk had some classy mothafuckin’ scotch.

And that was when he heard a scraping coming from somewhere up above. He was used to the usual rustle and bustle of the big apple, so he didn’t pay it any mind until he heard light breathing. That was when he turned around to take a look if someone was heading down this alley with him, cause this could end up badly for the both of them. He even made it a point to take out his cellphone and use the flashlight function on it to search the area. But he didn’t see a damn thing.

He stood there a good thirty seconds, searching for anything he could find. Dennis had never been nervous in the dark… at least he didn’t think he was. He’s used to the dark. He’s used to New York. He’d been mugged before and he’s mugged plenty.

When he was satisfied there was nothing there, Dennis decided it would be apt to take the street than head down the alleyway, so he went the other way, stepping out into the cold, brisk, open air, a stench of salt and dirt filled the air, a twisted version of the smell of a beach.

Heading down the street, Dennis settled down, but kept his phone out to check his messages and to look through the websites he often frequented in his free time. The sounds of clicking, flickering lights, and heavy wind were the only things that-

_Tmp._

Dennis stopped again and looked up. The sound was definitely coming from up above, and it sounded like a sound made on metal, so it must have been a fire escape. Turning on the flashlight on his phone again, he took a look, but again, nothing.

“Dennis.”

Carradine spun so hard around that he nearly fell over, spitting out his smoke, but the only thing he saw was a good friend of his, Aleksei. The guy was a brute, being close to 6’5” and built like brickhouse. While you never wanted to get on his bad side, he didn’t intimidate a lot of people; he was too nice for his own good. He was almost clichéd in that sense, the gentle giant; the only thing to set him apart was that he was the cheapest fucker you’ve ever known.

“Jesus Christ, Aleksei. Where the fuck did you come from?” Dennis sputtered out, letting out a huge breath.

“From the bar. Where did you?” He didn’t exactly say that, it came out morel like ‘From da barr. Wheyuh did you?’. He had been struggling with English ever since he moved to America.

Dennis told him about just having gotten paid for his recent job and Aleksei inquired just how much. The two talked for a little while, but Dennis made an excuse and hurried off down the street, he heard a little grunt behind him, and when he turned back, the guy had disappeared. Odd. He usually says goodbye. I guess he was just that drunk.

Aleksei had a tendency to relax people; he was one of the few crooks around these parts that didn’t always feel like he was going to con you. He was the best of the bad guys. So Dennis had settled down, accepting that the noises he had heard must’ve come from that big, lugging oaf.

So he was content with taking a shortcut now, cutting down an alleyway and using his phone once again to light his way. He decided to take another smoke out, but almost as if on cue, when he pulled one out-

_Scrtch. Scrtch._

“The hel-”

_CRASH!_

“Dammit!”

Dennis tripped over from just the sheer force of shocking himself, dropping his smokes and falling to his knees. He kept his phone close to his chest, but he didn’t take the time to grab his box of cigarettes, scrambling up to his feet and looking all around.

Panicked anger washed over him, “Hn… hnh! Who the hell is there!? Huh? Who!?”

Nothing answered.

“Get out here!”

Dennis used his flashlight to scan each end of the alley, not seeing anyone or anything conspicuous getting in the way, then he looked behind the gargage cans and the dumpster. Completely stumped, he kept waving his flashlight around and he passed over the figure of a man, his presence pushing him back several steps.

“Shit! Shitshitshit!”

Dennis turned his tail and ran like a bat out of hell, passing through the end of the alleyway and heading straight into another one, but he saw a shadow fall from the sky, landing in front of him.

“Carradine.”

The demon’s voice, low and rumbly, knew his name. It was an amorphous being that moved like an animal. He didn’t just move like any animal, he was an alpha predator.

Again, he yelped, turned, and came out of the alley, taking a right and going out down the street.

“Go away! Guh-go! Go away!”

Dennis’ eyes hurriedly scanned the area. He couldn’t run. He couldn’t hide. It was coming.

_Street lights._   
_Heavy wind._   
_Twisted smells._

Where the hell could he go!?

_Scratching._   
_Alleyways._   
_Crashes._

He could hear it moving through the air. Could it fly? Jesus! Jesus Christ! What the fuck was it!?

_Aleksei._   
_Bar._   
_Alcohol._

“Carradine!”

_He’s coming._

But there he saw a familiar abandoned warehouse just ahead on the docks with no lights having been turned on. He had been there before; it was a common rendezvous point for people of his profession. He knew this place well; he could lose him in there. Maybe it wouldn’t follow him indoors. That place was his only salvation, his last chance before… he didn’t want to think about it. Even now.

So he didn’t think, he just ran, ran straight into the door of the warehouse and left it open behind him, retreating into the depths of boxes and supplies.

The thing followed him inside. He moved like he was possessed. Maybe he was. Maybe this thing wasn’t human. Jesus Christ.

Dennis quickly came up with a plan, rushing into the cellar, and hiding behind the door. When he heard the whoosh of the thing flying inside, he jumped out the cellar and shut the door, locking it before it could get outside. A panicked laugh escaped his throat and Dennis reached inside his jacket, pulling out his piece, a .357 revolver that had more than enough bullets to kill anything that moves.

“You’re locked inside! Stay there or I’ll fucking shoot you, I swear to god!” Dennis screeched, his voice breaking.

Nothing answered for a moment while Dennis, shaking, readied the revolver on the door, ready to fire at any moment. But then, he heard this faint chuckle, the faintest laugh.

“You just don’t understand, do you?” the thing murmured.

Everything was silent and still for just a few moments…

_Bdeee …_

…Until his phone flashlight faded.

“What? What!? Why!?” Dennis hit his phone repeatedly, seeing the flickering battery, indicating his phone had died.

“I’m not locked in here at all.”

_CRASH!_

The doors of the cellar shot open and came unhinged, both of them flying through the air, skidding the ground. Dennis leapt back, one of the doors nearly missing him and lodging itself into the column behind him. He screamed like a banshee, scurrying away down the warehouse.

“You’re locked in here with me.”

~

With the clicking of a door, Gwen Stacy entered her house, yawning ever so slightly. She had only just gotten done with dance and returned home to the sounds and smell of lamb chops being cooked in the kitchen. The sounds of children’s laughter and yells reverberated off the walls and her mother’s light scoldings and loving gestures followed close behind. A smile crossed her face for a split moment and she walked further in.

She headed into the main foyer where to her right was her mother, Helen, in the living room playing with the kids, watching some new kid’s movie at the same time while to her right was her father, Captain George Stacy was attending to the dinner while speaking on the phone.

“Well, I understand. I’ll head out soon. Thanks for the notice, Sir. K. Bye,” And with that, he put down the phone and took a deep breath, looking a little relieved but not particularly happy.

Gwen trotted over, setting down her stuff as she leaned on it, putting one foot up in the air and swinging it about lazily. Her father met her eyes and without asking, he knew she wanted to know what he was talking on the phone about, and he would’ve probably told her reluctantly, but his eyes lit up in recognition.

“Hey sweetie. You’re friends with that Parker kid right?”

Gwen raised her eyebrow and reared back a little, “Um… yeah. Yeah we’re friends. How do you know him?”

Captain Stacy started putting dinner on plates to take from, “Well… you can’t tell anyone ‘bout this, okay sweetie?”

Gwen’s raised eyebrow turned into a furrowed one, thinking that Peter might’ve done something to get in trouble with the law, but he continued with, “His Uncle’s killer, we got him.”

Her eyes immediately widened and she found herself almost a little breathless. Her father kept going on, putting on his coat to head out for the night, “Kasady. Cletus Kasady. The guy’s a nutjob. Responsible for a series of killings around here. We have him in our custody. We’ll have him in the Raft by the end of the night.”

Gwen was still shocked by the time he was about to leave, kissing his wife goodbye and giving her little brothers a hug, “Gwen?”

“Yeah?”

He grabbed ahold of the door and pulled it open, “Maybe pop a text his way? Let him know not to tell anyone other than his Aunt. Make sure he knows that.”

Gwen nodded her head; kind of glad she would be the one to tell him the good news, “Definitely. Bye daddy!”

He kissed her on the cheek, “Bye sweetie.”

And he went on his way. While her mom dished up food in the kitchen for everyone, she didn’t waste any time pulling out her phone and typing a frantic message to Peter.

~X~

Dennis scrambled down the corridor of the warehouse, the sounds of my body bouncing off the walls and crawling towards him urging him on.

I didn’t need to get him quickly. This doesn’t need to be fast. I want to take my time with him. I want to rip him apart piece by piece. And then when he’s just before death, I want to take him in front of one of his loved ones and shoot him in the chest. Let them watch him bleed out. Do every single thing he did to my uncle and more.

“Get away! Get away from me!”

And then I could finally… finally sleep. Just take a nap. That’s all I want now. Just a nap.

But first… Here’s Peter.

I bounded towards him before he could turn a corner and grabbed his collar, whipping him effortlessly across the room and into an old, dirty couch, but he didn’t stop there, and flipped a few times in the air and landed hard on the wooden floor. But he could barely even sit up before I leapt up, pulling my feet up to my body, and double foot stomped him through the second floor and back down to the first, landing next to the doors I had broken through previously.

“Oooffgh!”

I jumped into a handspring and flipped off of him onto the floor. I didn’t really consider this to be a happy moment. I was warned by pop culture media that revenge wasn’t sweet. And it might not be, but that’s not the fucking point. I’m doing this because I have to.

 

“Leave me alone… please… I didn’t do anything!”

Perhaps it was the adrenaline running through him, but it didn’t take long for him to get back up after that. He was already trying to look for a place to run, swinging his gun around. He shot once but I rolled out of the way, and when he shot a second time, I backflipped from my prone position onto my feet, launching myself into a superkick to his thick skull, knocking him through the wall of the warehouse and on top of a boat tied to the dock just behind the building.

Time for the slow stage. This is when I get to have a little fun.

I leapt calmly onto the boat next to him. He threw a punch, but I blocked it without even the need for my spider sense. Another punch blocked. He tried for a knee, but I grabbed his leg lifted it up sharply, hearing a loud snap, and threw him into the roof of the boat, kicking his head as he screamed out.

“AGH! God no! No!”

I wasn’t thinking. I was acting purely on instinct, on what I wanted to do to him from the very bottom of my soul.

“Let me go! Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! I just… oh god. Oh my fucking god you’re gonna kill me…”

I crouched over him and planted one knee on the ground, grabbing his collar, and let out some small, non-powerful jabs.

_BAM!_

You took him from me.

_BAM!_

He was my world, you motherfucker.

_BAM!_

He raised me like his own goddamn son.

_BAM!_

You took him from me.

_BAM!_

“Pl-please… I…”

_BAM!_

“Nggghh… I… I got a mom to ta-take… unglck…”

_BAM!_

Your mom. Now I know who to shoot you in front of.

_BAM!_

_BAM!_

_BAM!_

_B-_

_BRRRRRRRRRR…_

“Huh?”

I felt my phone rumble around in a pouch on my trousers, and I almost reached down to grab it, but I hesitated, seeing it on the roof of the boat next to some of his blood I splattered. During that time, he swung up with his gun that he had dropped and clocked me straight on the side of the head. If it weren’t for my durability, that might’ve hurt. Might’ve.

I growled, slapped him across the face, and pulled him up for one final blow before I made him take me to his mother. Then I would shoot him. Then I’d eat. And then I’d sleep.

But that was when I saw the text on my phone. From Gwen.

Making sure he was incapacitated for the moment, I shot a web and brought the phone up to my hand, looking at it closely to see… o-oh… oh… uh…

_Gwen:_   
_Hey Pete, I know its late but I have to tell you about something. My dads a cop remember and he told me they got the guy who killed ur uncle!!!! Cleetis Cassidy? I think thats what he said. Call me!!!!!!! :))))_

…

N-No they didn’t.

I have him right here.

I-

And when I turned to look at the guy I had been beating on mercilessly, I didn’t see the guy I saw before. He didn’t have red hair. His skin wasn’t pale. His eyes… oh god… this isn’t him. Heh. Thi-this fucker isn’t even him.

…

I dropped him on the boat.

What the fuck am I doing? What am I actually doing? I was gonna kill him. I was gonna kill him front of his fucking mom.

I looked at the hazy reflection in the roof of the blood-splattered boat. But tears welling up in my eyes and muddying the surface with every drop soon made that very same reflection impossible to

Who the hell am I?

~X~

Mac Gargan vaulted out of his car and slammed the door, pulling his pistol out with him, his camera swinging at his neck. He pulled the hammer back quickly and started his way towards the warehouse. He followed him all the way here, following tracks and reports from some of the locals that there was a man screaming and he looked like he was being followed. He didn’t have time to waste; the police sirens were already audible in the distance.

Gargan grabbed the handles of the door and jimmied them, but unfortunately the place was locked. He could hear the groans of someone coming from inside the place.

“Uh… is anyone in there!? Hello!?”

Nothing for a few seconds…

“Nnghh.”

Someone was in there. Jesus Christ, what kind of guy was this?

Gargan took a few steps back, aimed, and shot the lock on the door. He looked at his gun whimsically, as he had never actually shot it before, and then kicked the door open, letting his eyes adjust to the dark for a moment. And then he saw the guy there, lying bloody across the floor, his wrists tied up against a box with some sort of white material, groaning like he was of the undead.

“H-help me…”

Gargan was going to step forward, but then realized there was a message on the ceiling above him in that same material. He looked up and… and, well, he saw it.

_Dennis Carradine. You’re welcome. I’m done._

Gargan stood there speechless as the sirens closed in behind him… what had he walked in on?

**To Be Continued…**


	10. Making a Difference

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter always has to play the hero, unfortunately.

_RRRRRIIINNGGGGGG-_

I stepped into Chemistry class a millisecond before the bell ringing ended and Mr. Michaels nodded my way, smiling wryly. He gestured to my seat and I nodded at him, seeing Gwen sitting next to my seat as she always did eyeing me with uncertainty.

It was understandable. I never replied to her text or called her and she did drop a pretty big bomb on me. It’s possible I didn’t take it well. And I didn’t. But she doesn’t need to know that yet. So I shuffled over and took my seat, getting a few hellos from fellow classmates on my way there and I, of course, said hi back.

I took my seat with a groan, pulled out my notes, and titled my notes page. While I was too tired to give a shit about any other class, Chemistry was a passion of mine. I do care about it a lot so I will always give it the time of day, rain or shine.

“Hey Pete.”

“Hey Gwen.”

The two of us smiled little smiles at each other and she took out her own notes and decided to title the page as well.

Gwen tapped her paper twice, “So.”

“So?”

“So.”

“…Soooo?” I let out a short, breathy chuckle.

“Did you get my text last night?” She finally asked.

I only nodded in response.

“Good.”

“Thanks for telling me, Gwen. That was sweet of you.”

Gwen smirked, “I’m just tooooo sweet.”

I scoffed at the Bullet Club and nWo reference, “Have you been researching pro wrestling… for me?”

Gwen shrugged, “Maybe I have. Maybe I haven’t. Not everything’s about you, you know.”

“I don’t know, how could everything not revolve around this golden god of a man?” I ran my hands over my body and she laughed, prompting the teacher to turn back to us.

“Guys, quiet down. A’right?”

We nodded in response and went back to notes. When the lesson progressed, I looked over to see Gwen writing down a message on a separate sheet of lined notepaper.

‘How was fucking the family friend last night?’

I cocked my head at that.

‘What?’

‘Didn’t you say you were going to see a family friend?’

Oh shit.

‘Oh yeah. Yeah she was good. Not the best. A solid 4/10. Huuuuge tits tho.’

“Ugh,” she said audibly, turning back to her notes. I saw a little red in her cheeks. I wondered if she was maybe a little embarrassed when talking about sex.

But, I did have something on my mind. After all this, things were becoming insane. And I could use… just a little downtime after everything that transpired.

So, with a heavy hand and a tightened chest, I wrote down…

‘So how’s Saturday?’

Gwen stared at the paper and wrote under it, ‘What?’

‘You wanted to hang out yesterday, but I couldn’t. I want to though. Want to hang out on Saturday?’

She didn’t respond for a little while, but wrote down, ‘Yea.’

YES! YEEEESS!

I put on a big, goofy grin, only to hear the words…

“Mr. Parker!”

Ah fuck.

Mr. Michaels shook his head and stomped through the classroom up to our table. He shut his book in one hand and placed it heavily on the surface of our desk and shook his head, looking at our paper.

“You two need to be separated.”

“What?!” Gwen piped up.

He put one hand on his hip, “You’re always talking in class, Ms. Stacy!”

I stood up, grabbed our note pages, and showed them to him, “Look, Mr. Michaels. We’re paying attention. We’re just having a little fun.”

“Fun is not my criteria, Mr. Parker!” He yelled and I could already see people filming this, “And until you understand that, you need to be separated from your little lovebird! God, if you pulled this talking back crap back when I went to school, you would-”

“Oh look! Look!” I pointed somewhere behind Mr. Michaels.

He stopped in his speech and looked back, seeing nothing. He shook his head, “What? What the hell are you pointing at, Parker?!”

“Oh, I was just looking for the person you were yelling at,” I slammed down the note paper, “Cause, bitch, it ain’t me.”

“Oh shit! Ohh!” A couple people from the class spoke up.

Gwen just stared up at me open mouthed. Flash and his friends were just watching in awe. A lot of people were talking. I could see guys out in the halls.

Mr. Michaels looked absolutely shocked, “That’s it. You’re getting a 0 for today and for your homework, Mr. Parker. I’m done.”

He started walking down the classroom again and with a sigh, I asked, “Can I at least go to the bathroom now?”

Mr. Michaels scoffed and turned back, “I don’t know, Mr. Parker, can you?”

Something just snapped.

“I don’t know, Mr. Michaels, can you stop cheating on your wife with the principal?”

“OHHHHHHHHH”

Mr. Michaels stared at me, anger fuming in his eyes as most of the class stood up and was going crazy. I knew people were filming. But I didn’t care. I’ve gone through too much to give a shit at this point. Where does this teacher get off thinking he can talk to me like that?

“I don’t know, Mr. Parker, you can ask her yourself when you go down to her office. Detention. And I’m sending your Aunt an email.”

He gestured for me to go down to the office and, reluctantly, I grabbed my stuff and charged down the aisle of desks, “For the record, Peter, you’ve always pissed me off. I can’t stand you.”

The students went a little quiet at that, but at the doorway, I turned back to him one last time and said, “Then bitch, have a seat.”

And again, the crowd went wild.

~X~

Surprisingly, the meeting with the principal went well. She understood that I just returned to the school and my grief over my recent death in the family would affect my personality. She recommended meeting with the councilor on a regular basis, but besides that, I’m pretty sure she knew that I could give her one hell of a bad day at the office if I let out the cheating incident with Mr. Michaels. I only knew about that because it’s been a rumor circulating with the students for weeks and weeks, but it seems like It might’ve been more on base than I thought.

So with a stern warning, I was let off scot free, even if I did have to stay an hour after school and had in class suspension for the rest of the day. No mark on my permanent record or anything of the sort. I’m good. And not only am I good with that, but I felt great. I didn’t feel like Puny Parker. I just… I felt good.

So after telling Gwen and Aunt May that everything was all right, I started heading home, but as Childish Gambino’s Freaks and Geeks popped up on my phone’s shuffle list, I felt pretty good. Like a conqueror. So I went the long way home. On foot. Wallcrawling and shit. I know I said to myself that I would stop with all this after… after what happened last night, but it couldn’t hurt to do this free running stuff every once in a while.

I got home a long while later when the afternoon was setting and the night started to peak its head out over the horizon of suburbia in Queens, New York. I bolted up the steps of the porch and barged right in, spinning on my toes a little bit, feeling like air.

And of course, Aunt May was waiting for me right there in the lounge as she most likely should be.

“Peter, come here, I need to talk to you,” Aunt May sternly waved me over.

Ah shit.

I stepped my way over and plopped down on the couch casually as if I had never been in trouble in the first place. But she knew that move already and she gave me a bit of a dirty look as it was done.

“Peter, I got an email from Mr. Michaels…”

“Yeah.”

“And yes, I also got a call from Ms. Grant, the principal, so I know it’s all been cleared up. But I need to know, what’s going on? What actually happened?”

So I explained the situation honestly, omitting the swearing and my last catty comment, not exactly lying to her, cause I’d never do that, but giving her a little bit of lip service to make the whole thing go smoother. When I was finished, she only nodded.

“Peter, I understand, but this is not good, okay? I know you’ve gotten off this time, but I know that you’re better than this,” May shook her head.

I hated it when she shook her head like that, it really meant I really screwed the pooch and she wasn’t happy with me. While I may have my issues sometimes, I’m still an Auntie’s boy at heart, and I never want to disappoint her like this. And yeah, I do regret what I did a little bit, but come on, it was the first time in weeks that I was able to be free.

That I didn’t tell her. I just nodded, accepted it, apologized, and we moved on. Very simply and maturely.

“Oh and Peter?”

“Yeah?”

Aunt May handed me a letter, “It’s one from J.J.J. That journalist guy. He wants pictures of that vigilante stuff going around. Ugh. Don’t get yourself into more trouble, Peter. Tell him to look for someone else.”

“I might. I’unno, Aunt May. This could be good for us,” I tell her, putting the letter down on the coffee table to stand up.

And then, kind of sheepishly, I crossed my arms and leaned against the couch arm as she made her way through the dining room and into the kitchen, “Uh… May?”

“Yes, Peter?”

I wiped my nose once or twice, “So uh… um. What do you, ya know, well… did you hear that the guy who, uh, took Ben got caught?”

Aunt May took a few steps and stopped in her tracks, turning around slowly, “He did?”

I nodded my head, “Yeah. Gwen’s dad, um, Gwen is a friend of mine, said that they got him. Cletus Kasady. Heard of ‘im?”

Aunt May said nothing for a few moments, “A serial killer. Heh. A serial killer got Ben. After all these years, a serial killer was the one to take him down.”

I didn’t waste any time, I had to know, “What do you think about him getting caught? What do you…. What would you want them to do to him?”

Aunt May cocked her head, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, what do you want him to… to go through? You know what I mean right?” I asked, gripping my arm a little too tightly.

“Oh,” she grunted in acknowledgement and put one hand on the kitchen counter, “I see what you’re getting at. I just want him locked up so he can’t hurt anyone else again.”

I felt like there was a big lump in my throat and a whirlpool in my stomach at that answer, “But he took Ben from us. Like, don’t you want him… gone?”

“You mean dead?” She asked, her mouth a little open maybe from shock or something else.

I nodded and she heaved a heavy sigh.

“Peter… if you want me to be honest, yeah, I do want him gone. But we can’t let that want, that impulse get to us. Because we become no better than people like this Kasady fellow. This city’s a good place, I bet if we pushed for it, we could get him on death row. We have that power. We could… but we shouldn’t. Do you remember what your Uncle would say about these kinds of things?”

I might’ve, but I shook my head anyway.

“With great power, comes great responsibili-”

“AAAAIIEEEEE!”

I stood up straight at the faint screaming and Aunt May stopped in her tracks. We listened for a little while and heard some shorter screams and shrieks come from the house next over.

“Uh…?” I looked at Aunt May and she shook her head.

“It’s Anna’s house. Don’t do anything yet, right? Could be just playing a game or something,” May said, getting behind the kitchen counter and standing right in front of the house phone in case things became out of hand.

But, even as she said that, that ringing in my head, that spider sense as I had come to call it, was rattling around like a hundred buzzing bees trapped in a box. I felt like falling to my knees from the feeling in my head right now, but I kept myself up.

“May, I’m going outside. You wait here, okay?” I told her and started making my way towards the door, “Call the cops. Call the cops!”

“Peter!” She called after me, but I was already outside, stepping out onto the front lawn as the night overtook the day.

It didn’t take long for Aunt May to come after me with her phone in hand and we stood out there for a minute, hearing the screams of some girl while things were being knocked to and froe. At least, that’s what it sounded like. And it didn’t take long for the door to burst open and someone walk through it.

“Fucking… bitch… goddammit…”

We couldn’t hear everything he was saying but this was what we could make out. Squinting my eyes and upon further inspection, I saw a man, couldn’t really tell his age, but he was pretty thin, grabbing ahold of something and dragging it out. It wasn’t until he had stepped onto the sidewalk did we see that ‘something’ was a girl’s long red hair. We could hear her scream and shout, but she couldn’t do much from that position.

Unconsciously, my mouth acted before I did, “H-Hey. Hey!”

The guy stopped in his tracks and span around to see us, “Mind your own damn business!”

I took a few steps forward despite Aunt May trying to hold me back. And seeing that she couldn’t, she already was dialing on her phone to get the authorities here on the possibility that other neighbors hadn’t noticed and already done it for her.

“Let her go. Just… let her go,” I was going to walk up to him, but whoever he was dragging, with an angry grunt, she bit his hand and when he let go, yelping, she crawled up to her feet and rushed over to me. I just put my hand out in the air to block her instinctively.

“She’s my fucking daughter, idiot!” He started towards me, “Get the fuck away from her faggot, I’ll fucking-”

That’s when he tried to throw a punch and I dodged easily, you could see it coming from a mile away, but in that split second when the fist was thrown, I realized it wasn’t really aimed for me, and it struck her across the head and she dropped to her knees. Seeing he had an opportunity, he tried to swing his foot back to kick me and prevent me from interfering further, but I swung with a fury and smacked him a good five feet away from us.

“Peter!” Aunt May screamed out my name, and I looked over, but as I did, my spider sense began to shake my brain like an earthquake.

Turning back to the guy, I saw that he had pulled out a little black object, a firearm, and pointed it towards the two of us. I crouched down to block her more in case he decided to get frisky with the trigger, but he just got to his feet.

And all of that night came back to me in a split second. Kasady holding the gun. My uncle bleeding out on the pavement. Authorities trying to pull me away from the scene. Everything.

He wiped his mouth of the blood, “Fucking fag. Try and take my family… I’ll fucking teach you…”

Everything seemed to slow down. I grabbed ahold of the girl’s shirt and threw her forward and I rolled forward. I heard a loud gunshot and then I sprinted forward, sliding down on the lawn. As I did, I grabbed the pistol’s barrel and pointed it down, bending the man over as I stopped myself, sprung up, and rabbit punched him in the back of the head, falling down with him.

He was knocked out cold, his body seizing up and a few strangled groans emanating from his throat. By the time I scrambled up from my feet, I noticed a police cruiser pulling up to the residence, that girl crying on our own lawn, and Aunt May holding back sobs and covering her face.

Nice going, Pete. Nice.

~X~

Needless to say, this was a fuckfest and a half.

The police arrived and detained the father and I was left alone despite doing most of the fighting in this ‘fight’ if you want to call it that. They attended to the girl and another police cruiser arrived on the scene along with a van from the local news station. We were asked to give our accounts, but I refused to give any testimony to the news. I didn’t really want my name out there. I didn’t want to be known. But regardless, they reported my role in the incident anyway.

The police asked Aunt May a lot of questions and gave her a lot of special care, as they were most likely aware of the proceedings my family had been going through the past several weeks. They treated me well too and didn’t give me too much shit, which surprised me a little bit.

Without getting too much into the nitty gritty details, Aunt May told me that basically this girl was staying with her Aunt and May’s friend Anna for a while as her family situation was not going well. Anna, after my birthday party, had gone to travel to the Middle East for business and left the girl alone. But her father, who was known to be abusive, entered the house and told her to come with him, when she refused, he attacked her and dragged her out, and that’s where we came in.

The rest of the night was a bit of a spectacle with police around the residence and a news van outside, but it ended with Aunt May offering to take care of the girl until Anna gets back and then she would relinquish custody to her. The police went over this for a while, but agreed to let May take temporary custody of the teen and shortly afterward, they were on their way. It was all very surreal and everything moved very fast. First thing I knew there was screaming and the next thing I knew I had a roomie that I had never met up until this point, and the only thing that I saw her do besides getting hit was bite a man. Swell.

When everyone had settled down and left and while Aunt May was on the phone with Anna to tell her about what was going on, I surveyed the neighbor girl. Fair skin, not as pale as Gwen’s, but fair. She had pale green eyes and, probably the most striking thing about her, was her tussled about, long deep red hair. She was probably about his age and she was cuddled up on the couch, staring at the coffee table as the steam from her cup of cocoa rose higher into the air. There was definitely one thing about her that I couldn’t get off my mind. And it was the fact that, to be blunt, she was unbelievably beautiful.

It was probably around then that she noticed my staring and replied promptly, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer.”

A little bit surprised at her lashing out, I decided to approach her, sitting on the chair next to the couch so I could face her. I leaned on my knees and just looked at her, finally smacking my lips and giving in to the temptation to strike up a conversation.

“Hey. Um. What’s your name? I’m Peter. Parker, that is. Peter Parker,” I put my hand out and scratched my shoulder while doing so, giving a smile to make myself seem a little friendly. But she left the hand out there and kind of nodded at me instead of returning my offer of a shake, she said in a quiet voice, “Mary Jane.”

Oh! I had heard of her before. She was a little famous around the neighborhood for being the ‘girl next door’ type. But mostly because of Aunt May constantly, and I mean constantly, trying to get me to say hello to her. Her last attempt was… well; I think it was my birthday. Probably around then if I’m not mistaken.

“Mary Jane. Ah. So um… you’ll be staying with us from now on,” I tried desperately to find the words, “Uh… shit. Um, where do you go to school?”

Mary Jane shook her head, “Look, Parker was it?” I nodded, “Parker, I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But I’m not a fragile little princess who needs to be doted upon like some little schoolgirl, all right? I don’t need your sympathy or your attempt at a friendship. Just… just leave me alone, okay?”

I was shocked at her behavior. I mean… I know she’s gone through a lot but I did help her out when she was in a jam. Least she could do was just extend a common courtesy even if she doesn’t want to talk to me. I did want to get annoyed, or at least show that I’m annoyed as I was already, but I understood that she was in a tough place right now so I stood up, put my hands up, and with a short nod of understanding, walked off to go check on May.

The rest of the night was pretty simple. Aunt May kept offering her food but she refused it, so she eventually just showed her the guest room where she would be staying until possibly the end of the school year, as Anna apparently would be travelling for several more months before she would be home. She told her neighbor to check on Mary Jane, but apparently he had stopped after being shut out too many times. The girl seemed a lot more responsive to Aunt May than me and didn’t give her a lot of problems.

And, honestly, the next couple days were just like that. I’d go to school, come home, and she was there, watching TV in her room and only coming out if Aunt May asked her to, which she did very rarely. She apparently would be staying home until next week and then would go back to school when the next week started. I’d occasionally try to be friendly and say some things to ease her up, but she did not reciprocate that kindness and mostly ignored me.

I did really want to give up. I did. I had nothing to do with this girl and for all I knew, she could be a terrible person and she just ended up in a terrible situation that I was there to stop. Maybe I shouldn’t even interact with her. But, my mind kept nagging me.

Aunt May mentioned it before. We have the power to change people's lives for the worse or for the better. If we have the ability to leave an impact, an impression on someone else, we have a responsibility to do that. If we have an ability to help someone with, we have a responsibility to enact upon that ability. Humans are powerful creatures because of that.

I’m very stubborn. I always have been. I do know when to pick my battles, and I do know that this may be a lost cause, but there’s no harm in trying at least once or twice to get something out of it. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

So on Friday, just when I got home from school, I decided that I’d surprise her. And after laboring over it for about an hour, I cooked up a measly breakfast dish of pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast, jam, and orange juice that I had set on a platter upstairs outside her room.

Hours later, when I had finished my homework, I came out, and the platter was still there, but all the food on it had been eaten.

Maybe, just maybe, I had made a difference.

**To Be Continued…**


	11. You Can't Always Win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter remembers a valuable lesson Uncle Ben once taught him in a time of need.

It was Saturday and I’ve been trying to have a pretty lax day. I woke up, went through my morning routine, sat down, watched a few videos, listened to some music, and played games the whole way through. I’ve barely even seen Aunt May and I’ve just been focused on trying to, as I said before, relax. But I couldn’t get it out of my head. Gwen was coming today. She said that she’d come over to my place and I texted her to come over at 3:00. It was getting closer to that time right about now and I felt my chest heating up a little and butterflies fly around in my stomach. It was a good time to be Peter Parker if I could say so myself.

I planned on taking her to a Mexican place a little way’s away and then maybe to a movie if she’s up for it. But I’d make sure to put on the moves, saying that there’s no pressure, all while giving her the signature Parker stare. Yes that exists, shut up. I’d take her home, sweep her up into my arms in an embrace an-

“Peter?” Aunt May called through the door.

I nearly threw my controller up in the air and the distraction ended with me dying about my hundredth time to Martyr Logarius in Bloodborne.

Burying my face in my hands, I sighed and titled my head up, “Yeah, Aunt May?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yup.”

And she did just that. She stepped in gingerly and looked around, a little surprised that my room was clean. Yeah, I may not be the tidiest guy around, but it’s not a life-changing event that I cleaned my room. No need to look so surprised.

“Hey Pete, I need you to get showered and changed,” May commanded, placing some washing she had in her arms onto the bed.

I cocked my head, I was going to do that anyway in about an hour for Gwen, but, “Uh… why?”

“Well first of all, you stink.”

I do not!

“And second of all, you’re coming with me to the bank.”

I put my hands up in protest and tried to say something, but she didn’t let me.

“You’re coming with. We’re heading by Jay’s place. He said he’d lend us a couple things to get some repairs done.”

“But Aunt May, I have a…” I stopped and looked at the clock. If we moved quickly, we probably could be back by the time Gwen was here, but just barely. I sighed.

“Okay, but let’s please be quick.”

After agreeing with me, I hopped in the shower and got dressed post-haste. I fumbled down the stairs, drying my hair in the process as I saw Mary Jane, who rarely came out of her room, eating cereal on the couch, watching some terrible reality show that was the shit nowadays.

Taking my chances, I approached the couch and stood next to it, idly paying attention to the TV while Aunt May got her own stuff ready to go out.

“You like this show?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“Not really. But Game of Thrones isn’t on yet, so it’s really all that’s on.”

My eyes lit up, “Oh, you’re a fan of the show too?”

She nodded, not taking her eyes off the TV, “Big fan.”

“Ah, yeah, I love that show. Well, I didn’t like Season 5, cause they’ve been straying from the books so much an-”

Mary Jane rolled her eyes, “You’re one of those, huh? Figures.”

I frowned, throwing the towel aside and into a nearby washing basket without looking.

“The books are good enough that they don’t need to make up stuf-”

“Peter, it’s time to get going,” Aunt May rushed by to grab her keys and her purse from the counter.

“Yes, Aunt May,” I turned to Mary Jane one last time, “All right, well, maybe we’ll talk later about this. We’re heading downtown. So I’ll catch you later.”

She hesitated, but nodded very slowly. I didn’t take much time to acknowledge what I had just seen from her, I headed to the door as Aunt May walked out, I grabbed my coat and bag from the rack, spun around, and shut the door behind us. This spider sense thing really helps me not look like the clumsy jackass that I am. I like it. Things are looking up.

~X~

As the cold air of fall rushed into the bank in downtown New York, so came a man named Mac Gargan wrapped up in a dark green longcoat along with his normal business casual clothes he would wear on the job. Green had always been his favorite color after all.

Ripping his gloves off fervently, he surveyed the bank while adjusting his scarf. He didn’t want to take everything off as he didn’t plan on being here long and he was still pretty cold. Everything was cold nowadays. It put a damper on things. But, Gargan couldn’t find himself getting that mad honestly, cause the reason he was here in the first place was to cash in his first, fat paycheck from J. Jonah Jameson.

After finding Dennis Carradine in the warehouse beaten half to death, the media went nuts about this new vigilante, but the police couldn’t really find anything to convict the man behind the mask. Regardless, it painted him in a bad light, and it was exactly how Jameson wanted him to be viewed. Gargan got a premature paycheck with a significant bonus for that. Sure it might’ve been a little unethical to eschew the facts in the way he did, but look at the cash he had in his pocket ready to be unloaded into his account! Hah!

An attendant asked if he could help Gargan with anything but he shook his head no and went on his way into the line, but heard a distinct thump on the tiled ground.

Looking over, he found a red purse on the ground and someone who was just walking away from it. Gargan knew this was probably a good time to shine. So without a second thought, he reached down and grabbed it and tapped the person on the shoulder, seeing that it was an older lady with what looked like her son. She seemed a little frazzled and he looked pretty bored and anxious about something.

As she came to look at him he addressed her, “Ma’am? Is this your purse?”

The older lady made an exasperated sigh of relief and took the purse from Gargan’s hands, “Thank you kindly, Sir. Thank you very much.”

Mac shook his head with a smile, “It’s no problem.”

She tucked the purse under her arm and stuck her hand out, “What’s your name?”

Gargan shook it, “Mac.”

The lady nodded, “Mac. Mine is May. Thank you so much. We both appreciate it.”

Her son just looked his way but didn’t say anything. Wow. What a little prick.

But even as they walked away to do something else, he realized not even that little shit could make his mood bad today. He did something good for someone else, he’s got a paycheck in his pocket, and he’s gonna go spend some of it on himself and have a good night.

Things were really looking u-

 _CRRR_ ASSSH!

“What the hell!?” His voice and many others audibly questioned what was going on and it didn’t take long for them to notice all of the glass in the building had shattered and was falling down from various places. Citizens screamed as they found their way out and Gargan noticed a mother and her little baby daughter about to get buried under a torrent of shards.

He rushed forward and tackled her out of the way, pulling the daughter’s hand just in time for the glass to barely miss them. The mother grabbed the child and didn’t even say thank you as she ran away.

“Bitch,” He murmured. He did a good thing. He deserved praise for it.

But before he could really think about it, he and others saw someone stepping in through what were formerly glass doors. It was a singular man wearing what looked like a motorcycle helmet with a smoked out visor and maybe a ski mask underneath, a black leather jacket with various yellow patches on it, what looked to be spray-painted black football shoulder pads, jeans, and boots. Gargan, looking closely, also noticed large grey gauntlets on his hands.

The security team of the bank was already on the scene as he stepped through the door. Most of them raised tasers while a couple did actually have firearms with them most notably one with a Remington shotgun.

“Stand down or we’ll shoot!” They called out, but as they did, he made one sudden movement and put one hand up.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” His voice was low, gruff, and youthful, and seemed slimy with overconfidence. Gargan hated those kinds of people with a passion.

“Don’t make another move or we will drop you!” A guard threatened.

“Heh,” The man chuckled, “Just remember, I warned you.”

And then a reverberating noise followed by what seemed to be a tunnel of some sort shot out of the man’s hand, knocking the guards aside and knocking them all out. When he was sure they were incapacitated, he grabbed one of their guns, shot at the ceiling, and threw it aside when he saw that they all noticed him.

“Sit the hell down!” He yelled, but no one really obeyed except one or two people, “I said…”

The man yelled out as he put both arms at his sides, shooting whatever he’s shooting outward and into two support pillars in the bank, causing them to crumble. When everyone saw this display of power, they all sat down and shut up. Including Gargan himself.

When he was done, he chuckled again and walked forward calmly, “Good. Now, this is a holdup. Put all the money you can into bags and if you don’t do it quickly, every twenty minutes, well…”

He pointed back to the cops, “That’ll happen.”

Gargan could feel the current residents of the bank go into a silent panic, and he looked around to see the old woman, but… without her son. Where the hell did he go?

~X~

_Ding Dong Ding Donggg… Ding Dong Ding Donggg…_

Gwen waited patiently at the door. She had arrived a little earlier than expected, but she couldn’t help herself. She was too excited about the idea of this date. She had gotten all dressed up for this occasion. She had on a nice, modest white dress with a blue, flowery design on it that she bought on the way home the day before specifically for this. Not that she would tell him that of course.

Waiting a minute or two, she plucked at the doorbell again and heard the chime echo from within the house once more. She wouldn’t normally do this, but considering she couldn’t hear anyone moving from inside, she went ahead and pressed it once more, only for someone to open up the door as she did.

“We hear you for fuck’s sake, calm down.”

…

Uh.

What was this pretty redhead doing in Peter’s house?

“Uh… hi. Hi there,” Gwen smiled.

Mary Jane did not return the smile, “You Parker’s chick?”

Gwen furrowed her brow. She didn’t fancy herself as anyone’s “chick”. She was her own woman regardless of the relationships she might find herself in. Proud of it too.

“Um… yes,” But to be polite, she’d spare the girl her speech.

Mary Jane just stepped aside, assumedly letting her in. Gwen walked inside and shut the door behind her, taking her shoes off. Looking around, she was a little surprised to see the inside of Peter’s house for the first time and he wasn’t even there to show her around. Instead, this girl was the only one here, and she was just on the couch watching… ooh! That’s Gwen’s favorite reality show on!

Gwen trotted over and, trying not to impose too much, took a seat a little ways away from the girl she had just met. What the hell was she doing here? Why did Peter think it was okay to have her just around the house? Especially wearing the loose clothing that she was…

Wait, she might just be a relative. Maybe a sister. So Gwen took the time to ask her.

“Nope. I’m the neighbor. Name’s Mary Jane. Crashing here for a while,” The redhead replied robotically.

Well that theory went out the window.

So Peter just has girls crashing at his place then. Okay. Gwen sees how it is. Not like she cared about him or anything. Pssh. Whatever. Peter Parker who? Hah. Right.

“So… where’s Peter?”

Mary Jane finished a mouthful of cereal, “He and Ms. Parker went out to the bank. Should be back soon.”

“Ah. I see,” Gwen crossed her legs.

The two sat in silence and watched the show together before Mary Jane finally just gave up, putting the cereal bowl on the coffee table and grabbing the remote abruptly.

“Can’t stand this show. It’s complete drekk. Let’s watch something else,” Mary Jane grunted.

Gwen was finding her patience tested a bit by this girl, “Drekk? I think it’s-”

“Breaking news! Well’s Fargo Bank of America in Downtown New York is being robbed at this very moment and dozens of innocents are being held hostage!”

Gwen and Mary Jane’s heads perked up at the mention of the bank being held up.

“What?” Gwen softly questioned.

Mary Jane shook her head a bit, “Ms. Parker’s there… Dammit!”

“Maybe it’s a different bank?” Gwen offered.

Mary Jane shook her head in reply, “Peter said they were going downtown specifically. I know Ms. Parker uses Well’s Fargo, she talks about it all the time. It’s this bank!”

“Peter’s in there…” Gwen’s eyes were glued to the TV.

Mary Jane grabbed her head in frustration and anxiety, “Shit. Shit! What the hell’s going on with them?”

~X~

So I’m hiding in the bathroom.

Yup. Just sitting against the door in the bathroom with all the lights off. Like a true American hero. Next thing you know I’ll be pulling out my AK-47s and shooting the place up for the ideals of boobs, beer, and balls. For ‘Murica.

Pffh, who am I kidding? This American hero shit is for guys like Captain America and his crew. Even in fantasyland I’m just another stupid kid hiding in a bathroom.

Once we got into the line for the bank, we met some guy and almost as he left, the ceiling started to rain glass. I made a break for it as soon as I could and ended up in the bathroom and locked it so that no one could get inside and turned off the lights so that freak with the gloves wouldn’t think to break it down.

Yeah, I ran, okay? I ran. It wasn’t cool. I know that. You would run too if you could. I was just faster than everyone else so I could get here before people noticed. I am faster. I am stronger. I know I am. I know I can cling to walls. And yeah, I know I’m just sitting here in the dark and not doing anything about it.

Why the hell am I even beating myself up for this? Why? Anyone else would do this. Anyone else would hide here in the dark cause they don’t want to get hurt. So why am I, of all people, getting angry with myself for doing that?

I curled up into myself.

So what if I have powers? Those guys had guns. They could take him out. I don’t need to care about everything. Worry about everything. That’s other people’s job. I just wanna sit in the dark until it’s over. I’m done with this. I just want to go home and see Gwen there and go on a date. I don’t want to think about this. I don’t want to try and do something stupid and get hurt. If I lose, people could get hurt. May could get hurt. I can’t-

_“You can’t always win.”_

…Uncle Ben?

_“You can’t always win. That’s the way life works. Soemtimes, it doesn’t matter how hard you try, you lose anyway. Listen, killer: Life is a very long season. Some you win, some you lose… and it’s good to lose once in a while. It makes the winning all the sweeter. Maybe next year, okay? We’ll come again and see if they win.”_

Heh. I remember that. He said that to me when I was a kid and we went to a baseball game together. Our team lost. I was pretty bummed, but he cheered me up with that same little speech. And he’s right.

I remember a different thing he said. It was sometime in middle school. I got beat up by Flash one day and after getting patched up, I was staying up late and I couldn’t sleep. So I went down to listen in on the conversation Ben and May were having. I think he said something like…

_“Listen, May, he’s gonna be fine. All right? He’ll be absolutely fine. Yeah, it hurts now, but no matter how much we try to protect him, those things are gonna happen. But that’s okay, and I’ll tell you why: each time it happens, Peter’ll toughen up some. Get stronger. Make sense?”_

Yeah. Makes sense. I think I understand.

_“With great power, comes great responsibility.”_

I get it, Uncle Ben. I…

Heh. He’s gone. I could see him so clearly saying all of these things. Like he was right here with me in the dark. Life sure is strange sometimes. No matter how long you want to hold onto a moment, you can’t stop time from moving on. It’s okay though, Uncle Ben. I got what you were trying to say. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been hiding in here. Just… nothing could fill the hole after you died. It’s not healing. It’s just getting worse.

But it’s okay. I got it. I know what to do now. I’m just a little nervous. But you always told me that when I’m nervous, just picture people naked. It’ll calm you down. Crack a couple jokes. Crack a lot of jokes. Keep cracking jokes until people are tired of you and then you have a reason to be nervous.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my mask, looking straight at where it would be if I could see it.

Yeah. Just crack a few jokes. Thanks, Uncle Ben.

~X~

The bank robber with the gauntlets kept one gauntlet at the ready as he paced impatiently back and forth across the room. He went over May’s head once or twice with the gauntlet and she kept shrinking into herself further and further until the robber angrily called out to the clerks at the bank.

“What the hell’s going on? Huh!? It’s been twenty minutes. Twenty! I warned you about what would happen!”

And as he went on a tantrum, Gargan looked up at him, keeping his gaze as his hands reached behind and into his coat, where he kept his pistol concealed from the public. He went ever so slowly, breathing a bit too heavily, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“The hell’re you doing!?”

And then Gargan felt a sharp and blunt pain on his hands, the robber stomping on them before he could do anything. He yelped in pain and was dragged up to the robber by his scarf and a gauntlet was pressed against his head. He was dragged to the front of the back where some of the press could see him and cameras could be on him.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen to me!” He yelled out and then was about to shoot his waves into Gargan’s blubbering, sobbing head, but a web line caught his gauntlet and he was pulled away to drop the guy.

“What the…?”

Looking up, of course, he saw me in full costume at this point. I got into a low attack stance and to the side; I could hear the crowd of hostages start to get a bit rowdy at the sight of me. I could hear whispers wondering if I was on their side of his.

“You’re that vigilante guy, right? The one on the news… you took my boy Dennis down. Dennis was a good fucking guy, you-”

“Pfffh.”

He cocked his head at the sound I made and I started laughing and pointing.

“I don’t even need to picture you naked when you’re wearing that outfit, Patches! Ha!” I keeled over a little bit laughing mostly out of nervousness, but, to be fair, it was a pretty bad outfit.

“Whuh…” The man popped up to his feet, “I’m not Patches! Don’t call me Patches! I’m-”

A web was shot at his helmet and he fell down on his ass, trying to rip the white substance off.

“No! No, let me guess,” I paced back and forth comically, “Hm… so you must be Quilt Man? Padded Pete? Mister Triple-Ply? Oh! I got it! The Cushion!”

The man finally gives up and instead roars, “No! No no no! I’m The Shocker! I’m the goddamn Shocker!”

And with that he thrust both gauntlets forth and shot out waves of what looked to be sonic power straight at me. With my reflexes, I was barely able to dodge it, but no normal person could, that was for damn sure. I flipped out of the way of the attack and landed gracefully.

“Shocker? Good to know ‘subtle’ isn’t in your vocabulary.”

With another roar he shot one gauntlet’s worth of sonic waves at me and I cartwheeled out of the way, dodging his follow up attack with a backflip. When he began shooting in a wave pattern to block my acrobatics, I leapt into the air and shot a web, swinging across the bank to move out of the way of his attacks, careful to make sure that no one is harmed in the process of doing that.

“Wait, but, you call yourself Shocker? Why Shocker? You don’t even use electricity. Hm. I’d go with Sonic. I know it’s taken, but with a peppier attitude, I know you could pull it off!”

“Shut up!”

A heavy blast was sent under my position on the wall I landed on and I leapt off, but webbed two large pieces of debris that fell down and swung them towards him while in the air, but he rolled out of the way and shot two more blasts to me.

“No, peppier! Peppier, dammit!”

I landed on the scaffolding connecting the support columns, jumped to the side and onto my hands, and flipped off of it and into the air.

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening! This actually was like a comic book! Or a video game! Or a movie! Wow!

And just as I was thinking that, my spider sense went off the charts, but it wasn’t enough, as a shot of his gauntlets sent me flying through the air and into the glass walls of an office inside, rolling to a stop after hitting a desk planted into the ground.

“Gah…” I grunted as quietly as possible, getting back to my feet.

“Hahah, welcome to Shocker’s School of Hard Knocks, kid,” Shocker taunted him, holding his hands out cockily.

I flipped up the mask and spat out a bit of blood onto the floor. I must’ve bitten my cheek pretty badly on the way down.

I kneaded my shoulder, “Huh, I underestimated you.”

Shocker cockily put his fist to his hip, “Damn right you did. Now-”

“The kink in my shoulders is gone now! Wow! Those gloves sure can pack a soothing punch,” I exclaimed and was just able to finish before he shoots the ground, vaulting him into the air, “Do those gloves come with a puree setting? I’m thinking of making dinner after I pound your face in.”

Whipping my body forward, I land in a slide and dodge his crushing blow into the ground and try to throw my own dashing punch, but am caught with a blow and I am shot off into a pillar. I recover by shooting a web onto that same pillar before it completely crumbles and swing around through the air to Patches once again, but he shoots himself into the air again to dodge.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Using my spider sense, I anticipate this movement and I shoot another web to swing myself up and into the air, grabbing ahold of him as he begins to descend and flipping him upside down into a piledriver, smashing his body hard into the ground and kicking him into the air and back onto his feet.

“Gnh…” He’s barely staying up, but on pure instinct, he shoots out some blasts here and there, but with quick acrobatic movements, I easily dodge them all.

“You’re embarrassing yourself, Cushion. Your material is getting a little old and worn down. Maybe it’s time to put you in the trash. Or, wait, are you recyclable?”

“Graaaaghhh!” Once again, on instinct, he throws out some sonic powered punches, but I slide to the side, smash him with an overhead punch, uppercut him back into an upright position, and hit him with a spinning roundhouse kick, but before I land, to finish him off completely, I web the wall behind him and wrench myself into him, dropkicking him onto the floor and sliding on his body just before the line of hostages.

I jump up off him and fall to my knees, my costume already ripped up, well, my long sleeved shirt is ripped up and my pants have a couple holes, but I guess it’s not that bad. The mask is still there and in good condition. Not like I’ll be using it again but… ngh… fuck… everything’s hurting.

Looking up, I gauge their reaction, but instead of seeing terror, I see a mob of people cheering for me.

…

What?

I stagger back to my feet and they start rushing toward me, but I’m able to keep them at a distance. I don’t want Aunt May recognizing me or anyone else who I might’ve seen before doing the same. And it won’t be long until the police start rushing in so I can’t risk this right now.

“Well, it’s been fun, but I gotta bounce. Or. Uh. Swing!” I leapt up into the air, shot a web behind myself, and spun around through the air.

Swinging out into the open, I notice the blockade of police cars below me. Already I hear someone from down below screaming to open fire, but someone stops him. I’m unable to see who it is for future reference if I wanted to send him a gift basket, but I do see it’s an older man. Maybe I’ll recognize him if I see him again sometime.

From there, I disappeared from their sight, swinging into the distance. In reality, I was just going to hide near my house until Aunt May got home.

~X~

And hide I did!

I returned home pretty quickly, but I made sure to land quite a way’s away so no one noticed my masked self coming into Queens. While I was waiting for May to come home, I switched back into my normal clothes in Mary Jane’s backyard. I should be good for now. No one noticed me. I hope Aunt May doesn’t suspect anything. I really hope.

So when she did come home, escorted by a police officer, I made my entrance, showing up at the doorway and knocking sheepishly. I saw Aunt May, Gwen, the officer, and Mary Jane there. They all turned to me, completely shocked. Just how I wanted them to be.

“Hey,” I said.

Aunt May ran up to me and grabbed my face to make sure I was all right, I reassured her for a little while and the police officer came up to ask me some questions.

“Hello Mr. Parker, can I ask where you were at the scene?” He pulled out a notebook. It was painfully clear he wanted to go home already.

“In the bathroom. I ran off there before that maniac came inside. There was a window there and I climbed out of it,” There actually was. That would’ve been my plan if, well, ya know, I didn’t go all Batman on his ass.

The officer raised his eyebrow, “Where’d you get those?”

Pointing to my face and my arm, I noticed that I had gotten a cut on my cheek and a pretty big bruise on my arm. Taking some time to feel around, I saw that I had a couple bruises here and there. Fantastic. Amazing. Just swell.

“Well, I uh… fell when I was climbing out. Took a bit of a knock. It’s why it took me so long to get home, I was a bit hurt,” nailed it, Peter.

The officer nodded, apparently that excuse made enough sense, and he asked me a few more questions before excusing himself and leaving in a hurry. He obviously just wanted to head home to check on something. Aunt May went off to get me something warm to drink and Mary Jane actually went with her to go help.

That left me with Gwen.

“Ahem,” She cleared her throat audibly, “So. First date and you’ve already stood me up.”

I smiled a bit, “Heh. Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.”

She laughed, “It’s okay, Peter. Next weekend, okay?” She whispered in my ear.

“For sure.”

And with that she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. My hands hovered over her in surprise, but I eventually gave in and embraced her after a few moments. It’s hard to let people into your life. It’s even harder to convince yourself you can trust them like this because the time you spend with them could end up not meaning anything when it fades.

At the end of the day, when things are hard, when the chips are down, when the pain is overwhelming, and when sadness won’t leave you… while time keeps moving, you can hold onto moments like this… forever.

**To Be Continued…**


	12. Feeling Older Every Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ever since Mac Gargan was a kid, he's wanted to be a hero. Maybe he finally gets the chance...

It didn’t take long.

Two proverbial gangstas trying to act tough, backing up some dude against the wall who couldn’t fend them off even if he had a weapon. Wanted to shake him down for whatever had on him. Typical scene in a lot of parts of New York. Nothing special.

At least, not until he came in.

He was very quick, it was obvious he had some sort of training before because in a matter of seconds he was upon the two men and was swinging. His swings were powerful, but they wide and left too many openings. But he didn’t care. Why would he? He wasn’t in this situation to help himself.

He caught one of them with his fist, but it wasn’t long until he was caught with a blow himself and fell back against the hard ground. He was dazed, but before he could even think of getting back up, he took a hard soccer ball-esque kick to the jaw and was knocked out cold.

The two men piled on top of him with heavy-handed blows and quick kicks that dug into your sides like drills. But all the while he was swimming in a pool of black and had no way out. If this was kept up, he would be there forever.

And that man who was being held up? He had already run away. Never even bothered to call the cops even though he knew what was happening.

But it wasn’t all that long until the cops showed up anyway. They were making too much of a noise to not be noticed by the uncaring neighbors who were miffed that this man’s attempted murder was interrupting her 30th marathon of Sex and the City.

He was hauled off in an ambulance. The other two were hauled off in a police cruiser.

Typical scene in a lot of parts of New York. Nothing special.

~X~

“I was in the hospital for about a week after that…”

Gargan finished telling the story, lying back on the just-warmed leather couch, watching his therapist’s pencil scribbling against the smooth paper. It was mesmerizing in a way. Calming. He’d heard of something called ASMR where everyday sounds were used to calm people. Maybe this was that. Maybe this was just how therapy was supposed to be.

“Tell me, Mac… why do you think you did that? That obviously wasn’t a smart move. Heroics or not, you could’ve been killed,” The therapist seemed angry at him.

Mr. Hamilton was like that a lot. Very passionate and some could even say he might be a little critical of his patients’ problems, but at the same time, he got results. Gargan had heard that he had gotten a lot of patients happy and healthy after he was done with them. He could use a bit of that magic right now.

When Bart asked him his question from earlier, Gargan’s mind immediately flashed to that day at the bank. Held hostage in front of all of those people with some loudmouthed jackass having to come save him. Gargan was ex-military for Christ’s sake. But there he was, blubbering like an idiot, begging for his life.

For whatever reason, Gargan didn’t wanna tell the truth. He felt like he had to lie about it. Even to Mr. Hamilton.

“I’ve always wanted to be a hero, Mr. Hamilton,” To be fair, that was true, but that wasn’t why he did it, “I guess that coupled with losing the only job I’d had in a long ass time… I’unno. I thought I might try it out before I get too old.”

It was true that he got fired. After making the vigilante look like a million bucks on live television, J. Jonah Jameson called him up and chewed him out for a good hour before telling him that he was fired. Gargan had been living off the money from the job ever since and the bank incident was nearly two months ago at this point.

“Well, what kind of hero did you want to be? Did you ever have a fantasy about that?” Bart asked, writing some more things down.

“Heh…” Gargan closed his eyes and smiled wistfully, “Yeah. Yeah I did. Y’know how when you’re a kid, you always think you’re special? When I was a kid, I thought I was an alien. Like superman. The last of a dead race sent here. Used to think that I had a tail and I could shoot acid at bad guys. Jesus, I hadn’t thought about that in fuckin’ years…”

Gargan laughed and his therapist laughed along with him. They quieted down after a few moments and Bart continued.

His therapist scoffed, “And besides, you’re in your thirties, Mac. You’re not old.”

Gargan shrugged, “Feel older every day.”

Bart stayed quiet for a while.

“Well, our hour’s up, Mac,” Bart finally let out after about a minute, “It was a pleasure seeing you again and I would normally let you go longer, but I have an important call to make.”

“Okay, Mr. Hamilton. It’s been real helpful as always,” Gargan got up off the couch and held his hand out, to which Bart promptly shook.

“This time next week, okay?” Bart gave him his best smile and Gargan nodded profusely.

After he was out the door and presumably heading back home, Mr. Hamilton wasted no time. He whipped out his phone, dialed a contact, and put it to his ear, staring off into the distance as if it was business as usual. And, yeah, yeah it was.

“Hello, I’d like to speak to Mr. Osborn, it’s Mr. Hamilton speaking…”

~X~

In the cold winter evening, Gargan is sitting in his apartment with blankets on over his body. It was getting damn chilly around this time. Snow was slowly blanketing the streets and ice crusted against hard, windowsill edges. It didn’t usually snow this much, but November was always a bitch even if it didn’t.

He reaches over and grabs a cup of tea off of his makeshift coffee table and took a small sip. Gargan always made his tea way too hot, it always burned his tongue, and since he enjoyed spicy foods, it often singed his raw tongue. But he liked it that way. He knew he made a good cup of tea that way.

He had just gotten back from his first job ever since the vigilante one. Six days after his last therapy session, he finally got a job scoping out a husband’s whereabouts to see if he was having an affair. Turns out he was visiting his mom. When he went back and told the wife that, not only did she not believe him, but also she refused to pay him. It was only when he threatened to call the cops did she actually just give him his money.

Gargan was tempted to go out and maybe hit up a bar or a club or something and meet some people, but after that stressful day he just had, he couldn’t find the energy. He didn’t have many friends, cause after coming back from Afghanistan his childhood friends ended up being crooks, and he had no girlfriend to speak of. He needed to meet new people, but he just couldn’t find the time or energy. At least that what he tells himself.

It wasn’t until about halfway through season 3 of Parks and Rec. was he interrupted. This time around, he was interrupted by a call coming from his cellphone. Since very little people actually had his number and none of them called him, he hung up the call without taking his eyes off the TV. But after getting another call right after it, he decided he might as well take a look and see who it is.

“Hello, this is Mac Gargan speaking. Who is this?” He answered the phone promptly.

“Ahem. Hello Mr. Gargan, my name is Dr. Spencer Smythe and I was wondering if you had a moment,” The voice on the other side of the line replied.

Gargan furrowed his brow and pressed pause, leaning back on the couch to buckle down for whatever this was going to be, “I do. What can I help you with, Doc?”

A sigh of relief came from the phone, “Thank you. I’m a friend of Bart’s.”

Gargan’s eyes widened a little bit at that, “Oh, okay. You know Mr. Hamilton?”

“Yes, yes I am. He, uh, referred me to you. He thought that you might be interested in a job that I have available. A project of mine. Do you mind if we met over coffee tomorrow? To discuss details?” Smythe asked him.

Gargan didn’t notice Smythe’s quivering voice over his excitement at the idea of having a good ass job given to him. And if Mr. Hamilton was the one to refer this guy to him that must mean it is in fact a good job.

“Of course, Doc. I’m all for it. Where’d ya like to go?”

They set up a time and a place to meet at and with a gracious thank you, the call ended. Gargan had a smile plastered on his face as he grabbed his cup of tea again and pressed play on the remote.

~X~

_Brl-ing! Brl-ing!_

Stepping through the wind chimed doors of the diner, Gargan rubs his hands together to gather warmth. It isn’t too long until a waitress finds him there trying to warm himself up. And with a genuine smile, she walks up to him.

“Hi there sir, welcome. Table for one?” She asks and grabs a menu.

Gargan shakes his head, “Uh, I’m here to meet someone. He’s apparently an old guy? Balding?”

“Oh, is that him?” She points towards a guy in a booth, who upon that, notices Gargan and waves him over.

“I guess that’s him. Thanks,” Gargan lumbers over to the booth and, taking off his extra layers, sits down across from the man.

Yeah, the doctor was an older, man with a receding hairline. With a square jaw, bushy eyebrows, and a decent amount of wrinkles, Gargan could tell this man has been through a whole lot in his long time on earth. If Gargan compared him to someone he recognized, as he often did, he’d probably say he looked a lot like Desmond Harrington. His sense of style definitely left much to be desired as he wore a blue vest, blue slacks, a yellow shirt, and brown tie. He looked nearly like a clown, but somehow, it worked for him.

“Hello Mr. Gargan. I’m Dr. Smythe,” Spencer reached his hand across the table and Gargan shook it.

“You obviously know me. Call me Mac. Everyone does,” Gargan gave a polite smile.

Their waitress came by and took their orders. Coffee for both of them and waffles for Gargan. Spencer didn’t feel like eating today apparently, but he did insist on paying for Mac’s food. Gargan was never one to turn down a free meal.

“So, Mr. Gargan, from what Bart tells me, you’re ex-military?” Smythe asks and Gargan frowned at him.

“How much exactly has Mr. Hamilton told you?”

“Oh, trust me, nothing that you wouldn’t tell other people. He takes his doctor-patient confidentiality very seriously.”

Gargan nodded his head slowly, “Good. Well, uh, yeah. Ex-marine.”

“You were in the military for a while. Eleven years. Someone who stays that long would probably make a career of it. What ended up happening?”

 _PTSD. Suicidal._ Immediately went through Gargan’s mind.

“I was discharged. Non-deployable,” Gargan explained. He wasn’t lying when he said that.

“Ah, I see,” Smythe continued, “Well thank you for your service.”

They were given their coffee at the same time Gargan was given his waffles, “Yup.”

“Any family? Kids? Wife?” Smythe pushed on.

Gargan shook his head, “Nope. Mom was the only thing I had and she passed a couple years back.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,”

“No need to be sorry. She’s been dead too long for people to still be sorry,” Gargan took a sip of his coffee after that.

They drank and ate in silence for a few minutes before Gargan wiped his mouth with a napkin and licked his lips.

“Gonna tell me why you called me here?” Gargan was blunt at the best of times.

A wall seemed to break down in Smythe and he finally just began talking about it, “Yes. I specialize in engineering. I work for Oscorp. You’ve probably heard of them.”

When Gargan nodded, Spencer continued, “Yes, so, I’ve been working on something as of late. A personal project of mine. It’s difficult to describe exactly what it is, but, to put it simply, it is a suit.”

“What kind of suit?” Gargan asked.

“Well, it’s a suit that I built for Oscorp’s weapons program. It is meant to be sold to the United States Military. It strengthens your bone structure to make a person faster and stronger than they would’ve already been. It has a personal UI and a customizable weapons feature. It could revolutionize engineering, biology, science in general. But we’ve hit a snag in our development.”

“A snag?” Gargan asked.

“Well… testing,” Smythe came out with it.

Gargan opened his mouth for a moment, but closed it. He leaned back in the booth and, with his brow furrowed, he looked at the doctor across from him and only had one question.

“You’re telling me that Mr. Hamilton referred me to you so you wanna test shit out on me?” Gargan’s lips were pursed in annoyance and overall anger.

“If you put it that way, it makes me sound like a bad person,” Smythe put on a sheepish smile.

“Well, it’s a good thing you told me that, Doc. Cause now I know I gotta switch therapists. Excuse me,” Gargan put down his napkin and was about to stand up when Smythe grabbed his hand and put it on the table to keep him there.

“Mr. Gargan, I highly advise you to reconsider,” Smythe sternly suggested.

“Doc, if you don’t let go of my hand, I-”

“Don’t you want to do something with your life?”

Mac tried to pull away again, but Smythe had a surprisingly good grip on him.

Smythe desperately shot off word after word, “You joined the military to make a difference, right? You became a private detective to help people, right? You went out and got beaten up to save that man, right?”

“How did you…?”

“You want to be a hero, right?”

Gargan was floored by the question immediately.

“If you come help me… I can give that to you. You can be a hero. You can be everyone’s hero,” He told Gargan while wetting his lips, “Just trust me.”

Gargan took a few moments, but sat down on the booth and looked at him in the eyes. There was no turning back now.

“You have five minutes. If I don’t like what you have to say after those five minutes, I’m walking and if you try to come after me, I’m calling the cops.”

~X~

_A Few Days Later…_

Outside the cold winds blew snow all across New York City. Winter was getting worse and worse by the day. People were using transportation a hell of a lot more than walking and inner city streets were backed up with taxis and buses as far as the eye can see. But on this particular snow-encrusted day, Gargan was waiting in the lobby of the Research and Development building of Empire State University.

It had been a couple days since Smythe and him met at a local diner. Smythe explained his research in detail and even though Gargan struggled to keep up with even half of it, he got a good grasp on what they were trying to do and why they needed him. Having heard that human testing was a subject of controversy, Gargan asked if it was totally legal, and he was assured that it would be fine. And even though he might have had a couple of reservations, when Smythe wrote down for him what exactly they would be paying him for this, it became a lot harder to say no.

Justifying it by saying that he needed the money, Gargan decided to show up this morning to meet Smythe and his ‘brilliant partner’ as he called him.

_You want to be a hero, right?_

Hm…

“Mr. Gargan?”

Gargan looked up to see a blonde teenager with a black headband and white labcoat standing over him with a clipboard. She gave him a very sweet smile and made room for him to stand up.

“That’d be me. Yeah?”

When Gargan stood up, she stuck out her hand, “Hi. Gwen Stacy. I’m Dr. Octavius’ assistant. I’ll be showing you around the lab for a little, Smythe is running a bit late.”

Gargan shook her hand with a big grin, “Of course. Mac’s fine. Lead the way.”

Gwen did just that. She showed him inside the lab where there were countless interns and employees working ‘round the clock on lots of different projects funded by Oscorp themselves. It was made up of a series of rooms, offices, and a very large hallway. Gargan thought this nice little young lady was very professional and was doing a good job. If he could somehow give her a good review or something, he’d definitely do it.

“Here, in this lab, we get to raise new questions, new possibilities, to regard old problems from a new angle. Albert Einstein,” Gwen explains.

“Ohh.”

“But from what Otto has told me, I’m surprised that you decided to come down here today, Mr. Gargan,” Gwen said.

Gargan shrugged, “Oh, you know, I thought about coming down here a lot. And you know, your thoughts become things!”

“I haven’t heard that quote before, who’s that by?”

Gargan cleared his throat, “Uh… the Secret.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

And by the time Gwen had showed him around pretty much everything, Smythe and another man met up with them, breathing heavily. They had run from quite a bit away to catch up and both of them weren’t in great shape at their age.

“Hello Mr. Gargan,” Smythe shook his hand, “I see you’ve met Otto’s assistant, Gwen.”

Gargan nodded, “Yes, I did. She did a great job. Very friendly and polite.”

Smythe smiled at Gwen, “She is, isn’t she? Thank you, Gwen. That’ll be all for now. You may go home.”

“Really?” Gwen grinned, “Thank you Dr. Smythe.”

Wasting no time, she pulled out her phone as she was walking away, “Hey Pete? I’m off early…”

After a moment, Gargan broke the ice, “Is this your partner?”

Smythe threw up his hands, “Oh excuse my manners. This is Dr. Otto Octavius. My longtime partner. Otto, this is ex-marine Mac Gargan.”

The person in front of Gargan was a heavyset man with a bowl cut and circular glasses the kind Harry Potter would wear. He had a little smile on his face and you could tell from the get-go that this man was a jolly, old fat bloke who looked easy to talk to.

“How do you do?” Otto asked Gargan and he replied cordially.

“Okay, Mac, how about we take a walk?”

“’Course,” Mac said and the three men started down the hall.

While they walked down, Smythe explained to Gargan what the suit exactly was in detail.

“It is a titanium exoskeleton with adamantium grafts supporting its infrastructure. It is meant to be put on by combat personnel and used to suppress hostile threats with efficiency, as this technology enhanced the strength, speed, and reflexes of a normal human being. The cowl-like helmet that you wear along with it comes with a visor that enhances sight, hearing, and smell. It leaves the mouth open as to not obstruct oxygen flow.”

Opening the door, Smythe continued, “However, for this technology to take effect, it must be temporarily grafted onto the skin. And for that to not lead to infection or possible permanent tissue damage, certain antibiotics and drugs must be taken by the person wearing the suit.”

“As you can see, there are still kinks to be worked out. But with you at the helm of our prototype, we hope to work out these kinks and move to a better tomorrow.”

As they walk into a room at the end of the hallway, Smythe pressed a button that opens the shutters to a window and finishes his explanation.

“And here it is…”

The shutters open to reveal the suit currently being worked on by several engineers. It’s exactly as described. A chestplate of sorts and a series of straps and tubes to connect to the console on the back and the belt used to hold it all together. The plate connects down to a large set of boots and down the arms to a pair of gauntlets. The cowl-like helmet, as Smythe described, does leave the mouth open, but the visor has two holes where the eyes would be for a person. The entire thing is colored dark green and black to evoke the colors of the United States Military. It looks lightweight and easy to maneuver, however, it does leave a lot of skin open to attack.

“Wow…”

Octavius walked up to the glass, “We call it the OZESC Mark 1. Or the “Scorpion.” It is a little bit camp, I’ll admit, but the military does love their codenames, do they not?”

Gargan was mesmerized by the suit.

Smythe looked to his partner and then back to Gargan, “What do you think?”

“I just have one question,” Gargan cleared his throat.

“Shoot.”

With a small smile, he asks, “Can this thing come with a tail?”

Smythe and Octavius share a look, “It can now.”

“Heh… I’m in,” Gargan sounds off.

Smythe ends up smiling widely.

“You will not regret this, Mr. Gargan,” Octavius assured him.

As Octavius and Gargan talk about the suit at hand, Smythe pulled out his phone upon getting a text. There he saw as clear as day, Norman Osborn had sent him a text asking him how he was doing with the test subject he had set up for him.

Quickly, Smythe replied, ‘Good. Please tell Mr. Hamilton thank you.’

Spencer Smythe smiles knowingly at Gargan looking like a kid in a candy shop as he put his phone away.

**To Be Continued…**


	13. Cat's in the Cradle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend comes to visit. But he's a lot different than how Peter remembers him.

“Hey Pete, I’m off early…”

I smiled at the news.

“You’re off early? Do you wanna hang out later?” I asked, crossing my other arm under the one holding my phone up to my ear.

“Later? Why can’t you hang out now?” Gwen asked me, sounding a little disappointed.

I looked around, “I’m at the grocery store with Aunt May and I just quickly excused myself to talk to you. I should probably be getting back now anyway.”

“Peter!?” Aunt May called after me.

“Yeah I should be getting back.”

“Aww, well, I can’t hang out later. I’m hanging out with my family for the night. We’re gonna go see a movie,” Gwen explained, the sounds of her walking out the door of the Research and Development building at ESU resonating in the background.

“Well, do you wanna, like, do something later this week then?” I was nothing if not persistent.

“Yeah, um, do you wanna come over on Friday?” Gwen asked.

I coughed a little after hearing her offer. But to cover for my ass, I cleared my throat to make it seem like a legitimate cough.

“Uh… are you sure? Wouldn’t I be meeting your family? Heh?” As you could probably tell, I’m more than a little nervous about this.

Gwen scoffed on the phone, “Come on, Pete. I’ve been to your place and met Aunt May. That went well, didn’t it?”

I had to admit she was right. When she came over after the Shocker hostage fiasco, she stayed around for a while and met Aunt May for real. They hit it off. Afterwards Aunt May told me that she was a special girl, but I didn’t tell her that. Don’t want her to get a bigger ego than she already has.

“Well… okay. Okay! Fine, I’ll come over and I’ll meet your family,” I gave in finally and I could hear her perk up on the other side of the call.

“I can’t wait. You’re gonna love my little brothers, I just know it. You’re so good with kids,” Gwen told me.

Aunt May called out again, “Peter!?”

“Okay, I actually have to go now,” I sighed, “Wait, isn’t your dad a cop?”

“Oh come on, are you afraid of cops?”

“No, I’m afraid of him. K. Gotta go,” I let her say goodbye, hung up, and rushed off to go meet Aunt May.

Trying not to make a scene since, if I wanted to, I can break 45 mph in terms of running speed, I ran over to Aunt May and stopped beside her. She was in the clothing isle and was holding up a shirt in my size.

“Would you wear this?” Aunt May held out a very plain white shirt that said Los Angeles on it with some palm trees.

I grimaced, “No. Definitely not.”

Aunt May rolled her eyes, “Sometimes I think you just disagree to disagree, Peter Parker.”

“I’m allowed to not like the shirts you like, May!” I complained.

“It’s not just that, and you know it, you’re in a disagreeable mood today. Everything I ask you is just ‘no no no no’. Ugh!” Aunt May reached up and grabbed another men’s shirt.

“It’s just cause you have shitty taste in clothing,” I mumbled.

Aunt May never really cared if I swore but she gave me her scary eye upon the word ‘shit’ so I held up my hands in apology, “Well, show me what kind of shirt you would want to wear.”

I gave a deep sigh but I decided to help her look and before long I pulled out a cool Batman t-shirt in an oil paint-like style, “See, this is cool!”

“So dark stuff?” Aunt May asked.

“No, like, nerdy stuff. Clothes that show me off,” I pulled out a soft NASA t-shirt off the rack and showed that to her, “Like that.”

“Hm. Okay, I see,” She grabbed the two shirts from me and threw them over her arm.

After our little playful banter, we pretty much got everything we needed by that point and we checked out. Of course, I had to carry everything. Which I would normally complain about but with, you guessed it, my super strength, this was an absolute breeze. We walked out of the store when, excitedly, Aunt May turned to me.

“How ‘bout we go grab something to eat? There’s that Mexican place a little walk from here,” She offered.

“Yeah, sounds good,” I followed her lead.

It didn’t take too long to get to the Mexican place and since it was still relatively unknown and pretty small, they got us a booth right away and I put the bags down in the space next to mine and Aunt May sat in front of me. We ordered drinks and some chips to start off with and as we got them, Aunt May leaned forward. Oh boy.

“So, how’s it going with Gwen?” She smiled at her name.

I felt I was sighing a lot today, “I’unno. It’s going.”

“Are you dating or…?” She pushed on without any reservations.

“I don’t think so…? Maybe. I don’t know. Not officially,” I hadn’t thought about it a whole lot yet. We’re definitely not girlfriend and boyfriend but I think there’s something between us. Maybe. I hope so. If not, I’ve been reading everything wrong.

…

Oh no, have I been reading everything wrong?

“Well, she seems to like you.”

Oh thank god.

“Well, whatever,” I didn’t want to keep this conversation going in fear of the whole illusion of her possibly liking me crumbling before my eyes. Ignorance is bliss.

“Okay, fine. I’ll let you be angsty about this for a while,” I tried to protest but she was already giggling about and even if I did want to tell her off, the waiter came to get our order for food. I got beef enchiladas and Aunt May got herself a taco salad.

“How is Gwen’s social life? Does she have a lot of friends?” Aunt May asked and I shrugged.

“Not really if I’m being honest. I’ve noticed her hanging out with a couple of people fairly regularly but she’s not super popular. And that’s fine.”

Aunt May nodded, “She seems like that kinda girl. How ‘bout her family?”

“Well, uh, actually just now she invited me over to meet them on Friday. Heh,” I blushed a little.

Aunt May put down her fork, “Well look at that! You can’t tell me it’s all that complicated if she wants you to meet her family. Or, is that not a big deal nowadays? It was when I met Ben.”

“No, it still is, I guess. I just… yeah. Haven’t thought about it too much yet,” I shrugged again.

“Aren’t you Mr. Talkative today?” When I gave Aunt May a glare she chuckled, “Ah, but you’ve always been like that. I shouldn’t be surprised anymore, huh?”

“You wouldn’t be Aunt May if you didn’t make fun of me,” I smirked.

We finished our meals pretty quickly and paid at the front desk, “Well, tell her she can come over at any time. And any of your other friends too.”

I laughed, “I don’t have many other friends, Aunt May.”

“What, I don’t count?”

That voice.

I spun around to see someone leaning against a long black limousine just outside of the view of the Mexican restaurant. I recognized that brown hair anywhere. He might’ve gotten older, he might’ve gotten taller, he might wear a suit now, but I instantly knew whom he was.

“I’m hurt,” He smirked.

“Harry?” I asked tentatively.

“Oh so you do remember me,” He was grinning widely and we embraced in a short bro-hug.

“Harry Osborn,” I was utterly shocked, “What the hell’re you doing here?”

“I’m in town for a little while. Thought I might drop by your house, but who did I see in the window over there?” He patted my chest, “Ol’ Pete.”

“Damn… wow,” I shook my head in disbelief, “How long has it been?”

“Years and years, man. You haven’t changed a bit, Pete. Might’ve filled out a little though,” He smirked again.

We both laughed a little and that was when Aunt May cut in, “Hi Harry.”

“Hello Ms. Parker,” Harry gave her a hug as well, “It’s great to see you two.”

“It is great to see you, Harry,” Aunt May assured him.

“Well, hey, Pete. You have some time, man? You wanna grab a smoothie or some shit? Or, we could just, eh,” He patted the car, “Ride in my limo. Heheh.”

I looked at Aunt May and without a second thought she took the bags away from me, “Don’t stay out too late, okay hun?”

“Of course, May,” I kissed her on the cheek, “I’ll see you at home.”

“Goodbye Peter. Goodbye Harry!” Aunt May waved back and Harry reciprocated.

Harry opened the door up for me and I crawled in to see quite a large limo with velvet seats and coolers with random drinks and snacks. Pretty typical for the son of one of the richest men on the planet today, but for me it was pretty fucking sick. But I gotta play it cool. Yeah, play it cool Peter.

“Hoooly shit!” I exclaimed.

God fucking dammit.

“Pretty cool, eh?” Harry asked as he got in behind me, shut the door, and let the driver know to just drive around for a while.

“Man, Harry, you’re still living the good life,” I loomed forward on knees, “I’d kill for even a quarter of the dough you’ve got stashed under your pillow for Christ’s sake.”

Harry laughed, “Ah, I’d tell you it’s not all it’s cracked up to be but… well, it is.”

I laughed along with him, “So what’s up, man? How’ve you been?”

“Hard to answer that question. All in all, I’ve been aight. I’ve gotten to travel a lot. Seen pretty much all of Europe at this point. I’ll be back in Italy after this week till I graduate next year.”

“Shit, you skipped a grade?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. That’s what happens when you have a lot of money and can show at least a bit of talent in math.”

I chuckled, “I guess so.”

“But I’ll tell you,” He leaned over to me, “The kinda ass you get over there is insane!”

I smiled as he fell into a little fit of laughter, “Oh yeah? Is it?”

“Totally, dude! I don’t know what it is, man, but they breed them good over there. Holy shit, do they,” He slapped my knee, “But hey, you’re an ugly fuck. Some girls must’ve taken pity on you while I’ve been gone. What’s the deal with that?”

I shook my head with a grin, “Ah, yeah, I’ve been seeing someone lately.”

“Really? Anyone I know?” Harry put his arm up over his seat.

“I think she might work for you? She’s an assistant down at ESU for a guy who works for Oscorp. Her name’s Gwen,” I explained and showed him a picture of my phone.

“Gwen what?”

“Gwen Stacy.”

He smirked again and nodded his head, “Gwen Stacy. Hm. She’s hot, man. Maybe I’ll swoop in and show her a billionaire’s bed, eh? Haha!”

I frowned and what felt like a little piece of hot metal started burning in my stomach, “Uh… aheh. Sure?”

“Oh come on, man, I’m just fuckin’ with ya!” He slapped my knee again. I didn’t really like it when he did that if I’m being honest.

“So why’re you in town, Harry? Is school out for you or something?” I asked, fiddling with the bottom of my shirt absentmindedly.

Harry smiled, “To see you, of course. Why else?”

I raised my eyebrow, “Me? Why?”

“Well, I heard about the whole hostage situation thing that went down,” Again with another knee slap, “I wanted to make sure you were cool, man.”

“Huh… did you now,” I furrowed my brow, “That’s odd.”

“Heh, what is?” He questioned.

“Well, you decided to come back now of all times. And you wanted to hang out with me because you were worried about me. But that hostage thing didn’t even affect me that much. I was barely involved. I hid out in the bathroom,” I stroked my jaw and continued, “Yet… when Uncle Ben passed, you’re nowhere to be found.”

Harry stopped his smile for about two seconds before returning to his front, “Yeah, I heard about that man. Sorry. I meant to come to the funeral and all but I couldn’t find the time.”

“But now you can.”

Harry waved that off, “But come on, man. I’ll make it up to you. How ‘bout you come up to my penthouse tonight, right, and we just tear it down. Invite some of my friends, shit, we could bring a lil’ o’ this along.”

Harry reached into his jacket pocket and brought out a little baggy and shook it around. It was obvious to tell what it was from its appearance. White powder packed into it, nearly ready to burst. Jesus Christ.

“What the hell?” I sputtered, “Why? Wh-…what the fuck, Harry?” I pointed at the bag.

“Oh come on, Pete, don’t get all high and mighty on me. It’s fuckin’ fun, give it a shot,” He shook it again.

“No. No!” I waved my hands in front of me, “No, I’m not doing that.”

I shook my head again, “Harry, why…?”

Why would he come back here now? What’s going on? I don’t understand why he would do this; he should know I’m not okay with that kind of shit. He comes back now after that Schultz dickweed uses some stupid vibrator to…

…

Oh shit.

“I get it,” I grimaced, “You come back now to talk to me because I have connections to you. Because people would believe me if I said anything about you or your family to the press. And I just happened to be caught up in a hostage situation that involved Oscorp’s technology, huh?”

Harry’s eyes closed and he sighed, “You always were a smart one, Peter.”

“Pull over,” When Harry looked like he was about to protest, I repeated, “Pull. Over… Now.”

In a matter of seconds, the driver had done just that and the doors opened. While crawling out of the limo, I snatched the little baggy of coke and kept walking, but, of course, Harry had to follow right behind me. On the sidewalk, he reached out to grab my shoulder.

“Pete, give it back, that cost shit ton…” In a second, I span around and grabbed Harry’s wrist, looking him straight in the eyes.

“You don’t touch me,” I made sure he knew that, “Pull this again and I’ll send you back to your Daddy with your head up your ass, Harry. When you lie awake at night, think about how when Uncle Ben died, my oldest friend not only didn’t visit, he didn’t even send a goddamn text.”

I shoved him back and threw the baggy into a nearby sewage grate. I stomped off and didn’t even attempt to look back.

~X~

_A Few Hours Later…_

I opened the door quietly and the sound of America’s Funniest Home Videos greeted me at the entrance. There was Mary Jane in her usual spot on the couch, just watching TV and eating something. Probably cereal again.

Closing the door behind me, I headed to the kitchen and poured the angriest cup of Apple juice I’ve had in my life. Taking small sips, I just stared straight down at the counter, the events of what happened earlier today still reeling in my head.

“Okay, well, obviously you’re gonna keep throwing your fit until someone talks to you, so…” Mary Jane got up and moved to the kitchen, “Have at it.”

“I don’t want to talk,” I told her and took another sip.

Mary Jane rolled her eyes, “Come on, and stop this. Let’s just talk and get it-”

I put the glass down on the counter suddenly, “I don’t want to talk about this! I don’t. All right?”

Mary Jane was almost a bit shocked to hear that out of me. Dammit, Parker. Dammit.

“I… yeah,” She backed off, “Sorry.”

But by the time she apologized, I was already going up the stairs and into my room where I slammed the door shut and sat down on the bed, in the dark. I curled up and buried my face in my hands, wanting to scream, but keeping as quiet as possible.

I don’t want to be alone.

~X~

“So, he didn’t bite.”

High above the streets of New York, in the skyline of the labyrinthine-esque city, Norman Osborn stared out at bright lights and dark sky from his office on the top floor of Oscorp Tower. He held his hands behind his back and kept a steady gaze outward. And behind him, barely lit by the dim lamps turned on in the room, is his aforementioned son, Harry Osborn.

“Of course he wouldn’t bite, why would he?” Norman sneered, “That’d require you to have some semblance of tact.”

Harry reached out, “Dad, I-”

“You disappoint me, Harry,” Norman shook his head, “But this is nothing new. Go home. Your flight leaves tomorrow at 8.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped down in defeat, “Okay, Dad. Um… okay.”

Harry left the office in a hurry and Norman takes a deep breath, letting it out with an interested groan. His eyes narrow as he takes in the million-dollar view of the New York skyline.

“Peter Parker… hm…”

**To Be Continued…**


	14. A Night To Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Scorpion has arrived! And so have many others...

In the dead of night, on Yancy Street, a group of just a few inconspicuous guys meet in the middle of an alleyway. Not a whole lot of lights on in this part of New York and most of the people ‘round there have either gone out or gone to bed. A perfect place for an under-the-table business deal to go down. It’s a good night for everyone involved.

“Psh, Yancy’re sending kids to do their dirty work now? Shit,” One of the Italian men in cheap suits sounded off, rolling his eyes to his friends. He was obviously the leader of the group. The rest just nodded like good little trained mutts.

“Whatever, man, let’s just get this going, all right? Name’s Cee,” One of the Yancy Street Gang members held out his hand and the leader of the other group shook it.

“Joseph. If we’re going to get it goin’, then let’s get it goin’,” Joseph gave him a quick shake and put his hand back in his pocket.

“Aight,” Cee was handed a big brown bag and let the top of it unfurl, “100 grams of this shit. You got the money?”

Joseph smirked and snapped his fingers, holding out his hand just so one of his goons could hand him a wad of cash, “Always got the money. 10,000 Gs.”

Joseph is about to hand it over but Cee pulled back the bag, “That dirty money?”

“What the fuck do you think it is, bozo?” Joseph rolled his eyes again, “We ain’t running a goddamn candy store, we’re the fuckin’ Maggia.”

Joseph shook his head and his crooks and him had a good little laugh together. Cee and his two guys were fuming, but they’d heard prior from the other guys that Joseph could be a fuckin’ ass sometimes. Arrogant and all that. But he had a wicked temper, so they shut up and let him yuck it up for a while.

“How do we know if we can trust you?” Cee asked.

Joseph leered toward him, “The word of a Manfredi ain’t good ‘nuff for you three numbskulls?”

One of the men, a large black man, piped up, “Silvio’s word is golden. We don’t know about his doggyknobber son.”

Joseph’s boys gave a resounding ‘ooooh’ at that, “And who the fuck are you, eh?”

“Cage,” The man said firmly.

Joseph scoffed, “I didn’t fuckin’ ask about what the name your whore mother gave you when you were wanted to be hard, I asked what your goddamn name was.”

Cee held back Cage who wanted to pick a fight, but he calmed down, “Luke, motherfucker. Luke motherfuckin’ Cage.”

Joseph shook his head, “Your boy’s got some fuckin’ nerve, Cee. Better calm him down.”

Cee pushed Luke back hard, but he got up in Cee’s face this time around, “Better calm down yourself, jackass, or Imma come over there an-”

“Come over here and what? Kill me? Yeah, would be real easy for you fuckboys to kill each other, wouldn’t it? You’d get away with it too. The DNA would all match and there ain’t no dental records neither.”

Joseph and his boys laughed together again and tossed them the money, motioning towards the coke. Cee reluctantly tossed it through the air but-

_SCHLUP!_

It’s quickly knocked out of the air and rolled to the edge of the alleyway. The gangs look to the coke and see it melting with light green, bubbling, and fizzing acid. Gasps, swearing, and shaking, questioning words emanate from the crowd and that’s when it appears.

A figure dropped down from some unknown ledge, his impact cracking the very ground as he landed. The crowd only has a split second to stumble back when the figure lashed out, lunging out into the Yancy Street Gang. His fists lashed out and strike Cee, taking him down with a vengeance. Luke Cage tried to help his fellow gang member, but something lashed out behind a man, an extra appendage, a tail of some sort, that whipped Cage into the wall.

“What the fuck!? What the absolute fuck!?” Joseph roared as he and his boys escaped the alleyway.

The last of the Yancy gangsters came at the man with a knife, but he quickly disarmed him and knocked him out with a well-placed punch. With the gang members strewn about all around him, the man stepped out into the light to grab the wad of cash from the ground. There, the suit of the Scorpion model is shown and that figure is revealed to be known as Mac Gargan.

“Damn,” Gargan grit his teeth, realizing he let the Maggia members get away.

Mac looked about. He might’ve been strong enough to take out a couple of stupid thugs, but he wasn’t fast enough to get to all of them. His tail also felt odd then. Heavy. He might’ve been able to get the other guys if his tail was working properly but it felt like it almost malfunctioned. Or maybe he didn’t know how to use it. That’s most likely it. He just needed to be better. Maybe it would come with time… hm.

But still, he had something to go on. What did that arrogant fuck say? Manfredi? Gargan had heard the name before. Lot of people in New York knew that family was affiliated with the Maggia in some way, but they’ve just never been convicted of anything. Silvio is the head of them if he recalled right.

Gargan looked at the wad of cash in his hand and grunted as he stuffed it in his suit. He needed the money, so what if it was dirty? Shows those idiots not to play with money they don’t deserve.

And with that, he leapt up thirty feet through the air and right onto the rooftop of one of the adjacent buildings, taking off like a bullet into the bowels of the city.

…But down below, another figure stood at the end of the alleyway, scratching his head with his very large figures. The figure didn’t look like a person and with the way the light bounced off of him; he definitely didn’t have skin like a human. He looked more like just a… Thing.

“Thought it might be clobberin’ time…” the Thing shrugged and walked down the street, “Better luck next time, Grimm.”

~X~

Joseph and his boys rushed into an alleyway about ten blocks down the street where their car waited, catching their breaths after running nonstop for a while. On any other night, they might’ve thought it was some monster, but with the light shining down, they saw a man’s face.

Coughing up some bile from his throat, Joseph hissed out, “It was one of those goddamn suits. Second time this damn month that one of those fucking freaks tried to get in our business!”

Joseph looked at his boys who were similarly trying to catch their breaths, and since they were not nearly in as good of shape as their boss, they were nearly on their knees, moaning. Joseph shook his head.

“Get up! ‘Ey! Get up you lazy bums!” The three mobsters staggered to their feet and he ushered them to the car, “I’m done being those super powered bozos’ bitch! Follow him! Find where that fucker lives and send Flint after ‘im!”

The men get in the car and sped off onto the street, barreling down through the city after the leaping, bounding figure in the distance. Joseph Manfredi scowled and whipped out his phone, picking a contact and calling them up.

A confused, old man’s voice comes out from the other side of the call, “Joseph? What’s wrong, aren’t you supposed to be working on a deal?”

“Dad? We have a problem.”

~X~

Mac dropped down onto the fire escape outside the window of his apartment with a resounding clang. Making sure no one had noticed, he slipped inside of his place and looked to the lounge. Where there was once a lot of open space around a couch and a TV, there is now a complex, mechanical machine with an Oscorp logo on the side. He made his way over there.

Why did he have this machine, you might ask? Well, after the visit Mac made to the R&D department of ESU, Gargan ended up testing out the suit, which produced surprising results according to Dr. Octavius. Apparently his nervous system was a natural when it came to using this sort of technology. Coming back later in the week, the two doctors, Spencer and Otto, had painted the suit green and added a cybernetic tail-like appendage, which they had programmed to be used as if it were another part of his body, which just so happened to be able to shoot out acid.

Gargan was subjected to a series of cybernetic and genetic experiments with his consent, even though he was told to keep it on the hush-hush. While, for the most part, he didn’t feel anything during these experiments and if there was any surgery to be done, he would be put under, he was still given a lot of pills that he was told to take daily or it might affect his psychological process. The pills were a prototype of the serum that they wanted to use to enhance his overall physiology, but since they were attempting to replicate the Super Soldier Serum, which was nigh impossible, he was told he might not notice a difference initially. And boy did he not. He felt like normal, old Gargan.

But Smythe made good on his promise. After going through even more tests, he was told that he could go home and they would send the suit with him. For a while, he would be able to do with it whatever he wanted, and they knew he wanted to go out and try to make a difference.

And that hasn’t been very easy. While superheroes make it seem like fighting crime is a no-brainer kind of thing when you have super powers, Gargan quickly found out that was not the case. Most his job was waiting around for something to happen, and if it did, just like earlier he might make a mistake and not actually end up apprehending everyone involved. That’s happened to him more than once these past couple weeks. And he’s getting pretty damn sick of it.

Gargan turned around and entered his tail into the machine first, backing up all the way so that the mechanical arms came over and began to undo the locks that were required to be sealed for the suit to work. Finally, he was left only with the chasse on his chest, but that was actually the most difficult piece to remove. A thin device shot out from the body of the machine and latched itself onto the neck plate. Gargan felt the cybernetic tendrils inside of his body being pulled out and cried out. He grit his teeth, trying to keep it in as, finally, the whole suit was off.

Every time it was like that. It’s why Gargan always tried to make sure he only had to put it on and take it off once in a day. It hurt too much to do it more than that.

He walked off into the kitchen, rummaging around to find something to eat, as he was absolutely famished, fuming about letting those Maggia guys go the entire time he was doing so. He eventually found some bread and some jam, so he went ahead and made some toast, which he chomped down in thirty seconds flat, washing it down with two cups of tea. Gargan needed to eat and drink a lot more than usual now.

Gargan overheard the news that was currently playing on his TV,

“And in recent news, gang violence rears its ugly head once again as a newer circuit of organized crime takes to the fore. Many of you may have heard or seen members of the newly popular vampire cult known as the Holy Order of the Ancients. Now a street gang that call themselves The Inheritors have pledged their allegiance to this cult. Often dressing themselves in dark clothing and painting their faces white, they are labeled ‘Living Vampires’ by the populace and are generally shunned from the rest of the gang world a consultant says. More on this at…”

Gargan shook his head. Living Vampires. Vigilantes that can shoot webs. Mutants. Giant, green humanoid weapons of mass destruction. Sixty year old soldiers being found in icebergs. What is this world coming to?

He thought about maybe turning it to a different channel watch something, but he waved it off dismissively, turned the TV off, and decided to retire to his bedroom. Gargan opened the door and noticed something… a little off.

“Uh… hello?” He said out loud, checking if someone was in there.

And sure enough, the moment he said that, something rushed out from behind his bed and, with heavy grunts and breaths, charged him. Gargan was sure he heard some sort of slapping sound and instinctively backed up, seeing a man run right over to him and try to thrust a gidy up into his target’s stomach. Dodging the first attack, he maneuvered out of the way of the next couple. However, Gargan, having military training and being no stranger to fights in general, grabbed at his forearm and clumsily flipped him over his hip, onto the wooden floor.

“Grgh!” The assailant grunted before getting to his feet.

Gargan quickly took in the man. He was a pretty damn big guy, really muscular, taller than Mac, who was already pretty big. He was balding, with very short, dark brown curly hair. He had a green shirt with black stripes going from side to side all the way down and a black trench coat. And he got up, cracking his knuckles.

“Who are you!?” Mac asked him.

The man didn’t answer at first while they slowly circled each other, but slowly drawled out, “They call me the Sandman.”

Gargan scowled. He’d heard of this guy from some Maggia scum he had interrogated a week before. He’s apparently named Flint Marko. A hitman that often worked with the Maggia, known for his tendency to come in the dead of night and crush his target’s heads in with his bare hands, earning him the nickname of ‘The Sandman’.

“They’re gonna call you unconscious by the time I’m done with you, Marko,” Gargan hissed.

Flint didn’t even react at that, keeping his stone, unfeeling face at every action and word that came out of his target’s mouth. It was nerve-wracking.

And just like that, Gargan tried throwing a wide right hook, but felt two impacts in his gut and a fist smashed straight through his face. Gargan fell down onto his side and shook his head after being rocked by lightning quick series of punches. But Flint didn’t keep the offensive up and try to beat him while he was on the floor. It was only once he pushed up to his feet did Flint come after him again, but Gargan dodged it and went for his own punch, but Flint dodged his as well, returning with a quick left jab to the side, another to the jaw, and two more hard jabs to knock Gargan down again.

“Gah…” Gargan got to his feet again and tried to whip out a punch, but Flint blocked it effortlessly with only one hand.

Flint gave him a dead-eye stare, “I can make this quick.”

“Come on!” Another punch blocked with the same hand

Flint continued to give him a dead-eye stare, “Stop it.”

“Come on!” Yet another punch was blocked by the same hand,

“Stop it!” Flint yelled and rocked Gargan with a hard right hand, knocking him to the floor with the follow up elbow strike.

Gargan sprawled out on the floor, blood seeping from his gums and into his mouth as he took several quick breaths in. Flint stood above him, staring down with his furrowed brow and held his hand for Gargan to grab. In his daze, Gargan thought it might be him trying to be polite in their battle, but as he took it, Flint dragged him up and punched him twice. He tried to drag him up again, but Gargan slammed his head into Flint’s jaw, causing him to stumble back. And again, he slammed his head into Flint’s jaw, nearly knocking him down.

Mac kept on his assault, throwing a punch into Flint’s stomach and then kicking his head back up to knock him down. But it didn’t last long as Flint just went ahead and threw a haymaker punch, knocking him loopy as he fell down to the floor.

And that was when he grabbed both sides of Gargan’s head and began pushing hard on them in a vice grip. Normally, this wouldn’t hurt too much, but Gargan felt like it might be possible that Flint could cave his head in like this, so he grabbed onto Flint’s head, pushed off the ground, and stunnered him so that he fell back against the wall.

Gargan tried to soothe his head as he crawled away, but the pain was nearly overbearing. He took a look at his assailant, who was still recovering from the stunner, and with pure rage, he snarled and charged forward, tackling him into the wall and onto the ground, bringing Flint back up to let loose a series of hard punches in his stomach, but he blocked one of them and threw an axehandle strike into his side, grabbed his head while Gargan was doubled over from the pain, but he reversed it into a back suplex.

Flint, quickly recovering from the grapple, tried to get the vice grip around his target’s head again, but Gargan took the opportunity to bite his hand and nearly rip out a chunk of meat and skin. Flint roared in pain and then brought his other bear-like paw down three times, slapping him to the floor with every strike. But Gargan reversed one strike, pulling him over so he was mounting his body and smashing his head into the ground repeatedly. But then Flint pulled him over and began elbowing his chest repeatedly. Then Gargan stuck a foot into his abdomen and monkey flipped him off.

While they both staggered to their feet, Gargan took the time to grab his nearby fan and rip it from the wall, holding its shaft as if it were a staff. So as Flint began to turn around to face him again, Gargan broke the fan over him. Mac was convinced this would put him down…

…but it didn’t. Flint shrugged off the impact, seethed in pure anger, and then looked at his target in the eye. Shortly after, he charged into him, tackling Gargan over his couch and onto the coffee table. Not wasting the momentum, Flint grabbed the vice hold again and kept pushing, baring his teeth and growling as if he were going to rip his head straight off. Gargan cried out in pain, but used the opportunity to attack his foot and cause him to let up the hold, where he escaped it.

But, it wasn’t for long, as Flint caught Gargan again, lifted him into the air, and slammed him down onto the couch, causing it to flip over and for him to roll away onto the hard wooden ground.

Gargan stopped moving then, but was breathing very quickly, so Flint staggered over and tried to finish it with one last punch, but as he did, his target leapt up and grabbed him around the waist, screaming a war cry as he lifted him high up into the air and sent him straight through his window and out onto the fire escape.

And then everything was still and quiet. He looked out to see his bloody and broken breathing heavily after being knocked unconscious. He could hear sirens off in the distance and looked around, wondering how he would explain all of this. And still, the idea that the Maggia knew where he lived troubled him. He couldn’t let that just… happen. They could come after him again and this time he probably wouldn’t be so lucky.

No, these guys need to be stopped. The Manfredis need to be stopped. And they will be.

Tonight.

Gargan headed into the bathroom quickly where he had a couple of different bottles of pills on the counter and almost without hesitation, he began pouring them into his mouth, swallowing and crunching them up so he could swallow even more of them. He needed to be more powerful. He needed to be the best he could possibly be.

And after taking all of them, and phasing in and out of consciousness for something close to ten plus minutes, Gargan looked himself in the mirror… and smiled.

~X~

In a mansion, partygoers are ushered out as the whole Manfredi family has been put on high alert after they didn’t hear back from Flint Marko for a couple of hours and last heard the police took him into custody. They knew after their deal with the Yancy Street Gang was interrupted by an uninvited guest that tonight was going to be a long night.

“Aight, aight you fuckin’ bozos, get the hell out. Party’s over! Ya hear me? Party’s over!” Joseph called out as he helped security move the partygoers out.

The various troubled teens with fake IDs scoffed at this, “Ugh, this sucks. We could head back to Darren’s place and get his older brother to buy us some beer or something.”

As was life at that age. For some people at least.

When most were out, Joseph walked back into his house and stationed some security guards out front, closing the doors behind him. But honestly, it didn’t take a whole lot longer than that for things to get started. Because just as the guards got into their assigned positions, something dropped down in front of the gates.

“Eh?” One guard tried to ask who was there, but before he could, the gates were smashed open and were flung toward the mansion.

“Holy shit!” One of them yelled and tried to duck for cover, but was nearly sliced in half by the gates.

His friend who watched the whole thing go down turned to the figure at the gates and pointed, “Open fire!”

The bullets started raining down, but that figure dashed up the driveway and smashed into one of the guards, spinning around and grabbing another guard’s gun only to crush it within his hand and then use that same hand to punch the guard in the face.

The final one kept his stream of bullets going, but he was slapped aside by this figure’s tail, and just as he was, the light revealed him to be Mac Gargan who was filled to the brim with rage.

Bounding forward, Gargan smashed through a side room of the mansion and crashed into a pool table, crushing a guy beneath it. He grunted off the pain and turned to the mansion front doors and shot a stream of acid into it, breaking down the doors where there were a whole group of guys, possibly around twenty in total, waiting for him in the main foyer, the balconies up above, and the second floor.

“Fire! Fire! Kill this motherfucker!” Joseph yelled and fled into his room as all of his goons began trying to pick their spots to fire.

One guy tried to run down across from Gargan to get a shot, but Mac shot acid to counter him and he was blown away. Stepping out into the foyer, he shot another guy over a piano and grabbed it, flinging it effortlessly at one of the balconies to take out two men and swinging his tail back to knock out another.

When two Mafiosos broke down a door and entered the room, Gargan wasted no time and leapt over twenty feet, bashing through a marble pillar to take them both down with chokeslams. He shot down another guy on the balcony, all while dodging and reflecting gunfire.

He began up the stairs to the second floor when a thug tried to get in his way, but his tail swiped him over the stairs and down the floor effortlessly. Another thug tried to meet him at the top of the stairs, but when Gargan dashed forward and grabbed his throat, he tossed him through a nearby window and down two stories onto the Manfredi’s lawn. Stepping out onto the second floor, he was immediately met with two gangsters, one of which he shot with his tail and the other he tossed over the railing on the second floor. One guy tried to sneak up behind him, but he gets straight punched right out. And another guy tried the same thing, but he kicks him into a wall.

After shooting two more in the lobby down below, Gargan turned his sights on the room Joseph ran into and pierces its door with his tail, ripping it right off with ease. No malfunctions this time. No hesitation. No errors in judgement. Quick and easy. Just like it was always supposed to be.

Joseph stood there, holding his gun out in front of the desk his father sat at. Gargan didn’t even flinch, as the first bullet was shot, which he deflected with his tail. He walked slowly forward, reflecting shot after shot and eventually grabbing Joseph by the throat, head-butting him and tossing him out the window behind his father, hearing a distinct crunch. He focused his sights on the elderly Silvio Manfredi who sat before him.

“Well,” Silvio stood up, “Get on with it, then, I don’t have all day.”

Something inside Gargan snapped right there. He twitched his head at that and his body almost went slack.

“You think I’m some kinda joke?” Gargan seethed as he took a couple slow steps to Silvio, “Some kinda loser!?”

“Yeah. I do. You ain’t nothing I ain’t never seen before, you understand me you xenomorph knock off? I ain’t scared of y-”

Gargan never let him finish as he just threw the heavy desk out of the way with one flick of the hand and wrapped his meaty paws around Silvio’s throat. He pulled him down to his knees and bared his teeth at him.

“You tried to kill me!” Gargan roared, “You think I’m a joke! I’M NOT A LOSER! I’M A SUPERHERO! I’M A HERO!”

_Snap!_

Even though his bare hands snapped Silvio’s neck, he wasn’t done, he lifted one heavy hand and began to rain blows down upon the head of the Manfredi crime family. Then it was both his hands. Then he was ripping and tearing things apart. Things kind of just blurred at that point. Bloodlust had obscured his sense of logic and his vision. He just knew that he wouldn’t be treated like a loser by this guy. Not by anyone. By the time he was done, he heard sirens closing in on the mansion and there was blood splattering his suit and the walls. There was almost nothing left of Silvio.

“Hhh… eh… hhh…” Gargan took in and breathed out raspy breaths.

And with that, he disappeared off into the night, leaving a trail of death and destruction in his wake.

~X~

_The Next Morning…_

The cool office air drifted through Dr. Spencer Smythe’s small office. The sunlight shone through the loose blinds, painting the walls, which were not illuminated by Smythe’s desk lamp, with light. Spencer felt a faint sense of déjà vu from the scene as if he had lived a scene that was similar to this one in the last few months. He dropped his stuff off and was getting ready to go to work with his son, Alistair, stopping by with him as he did go to the same college that he worked at.

“Okay, Dad, everything set?” Alistair asked Spencer, putting his hands in his pockets.

Spencer nodded, “Mmhm. We’re meeting up with your Mom tonight, remember? So please, don’t be late. Do you want me to swing by and pick you up after work?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll hold you to it, all right? You always forget to pick me up,” Alistair teased and Spencer gave a wry smile in return, patting his son on the back.

“I won’t forget this time.”

“You say that every time, Dad,” Alistair pointed out and Spencer laughed.

“Oh don’t give your old man that, Alistair. I promise I won’t forget. You have a busy day. You’re giving your thesis presentation in about a week, correct?” Spencer asked formally and Alistair nodded in turn.

“Yes. I don’t know if the board will even want to hear about cybernetics being integrated into medicine in this day and age with cyborgs and giant robots running about, but hey, hopefully they’ll listen to reason.”

Spencer smiled, “I know they will, son. Now get going.”

Alistair gave him a mini one-finger salute and jogged off, late to the first class he had that day already. Spencer grabbed his phone and some documents he needed to go ahead and hand out to some of his staff members as they walked in and went down the hall, to the room meant to hold the OZESC “Scorpion” Mark 1 Slayer Power Armor. The first in a long line of Slayers developed by Dr. Spencer Smythe.

Opening the door, he found the room surprisingly empty and looked about, seeing nothing but the empty suit room as he had come to expect. But before he could investigate further, he heard a distinct voice.

“Hello Doc.”

Smythe spun around and looked up at the wall behind him, seeing Mac Gargan perched on the wall with his tail holding him up. Smythe let out a sigh of relief, shaking his head, thinking it might have been someone else out to get him and steal his work. You never know when you work with Oscorp.

“Jesus, Mr. Gargan. You startled me,” Smythe took a deep breath in, “Well come down from there.”

Gargan did as he was told and leapt off the wall, landing in front of Smythe with a heavy thump. Smythe cocked his head ever so slightly. Something seemed off here. For his experience with the suit, he seemed oddly light on his feet. He had a bad feeling about this.

“Well, Mr. Gargan, we haven’t heard from you in days now. What were you doing? How have you been?”

Gargan rolled his shoulders around, “Been well. What do you think I’ve been doing, Doc?”

Smythe sighed, “Ah. You must be the one responsible for all of the recent vigilante crimes going around. I assumed they were because of that other vigilante. The one that saved you.”

Smythe turned away and as he did, Gargan’s lips curled as if he were a wild animal. The other vigilante? Who gives a flying fuck about the other one? Gargan was right here. He was the hero! Him! No one’s seen that other guy in weeks!

“Well we have a lot of work to do. You haven’t come by to do any tests in a long while now, Mr. Garga-…” Smythe’s brow furrowed and he looked back with the corner of his eye, “Gargan… you wouldn’t happen to know about an incident that happened last night, would you? That thing on the news? The slaughter of dozens of Mafiosos?”

The air hung thick for a few moments, but Gargan shook his head, “Hadn’t heard of it. Maybe it was that other guy.”

“Hm… maybe it was,” Smythe murmured.

Gargan took a couple steps forward, “Speaking of that, Doc, I actually do need to ask you a favor.”

Smythe nodded, “Yes?”

Acting sheepishly, he went on, “Well, you see, silly thing is I seem to have misplaced those pills you’ve given me. Must’ve dropped them in the street somewhere. Maybe knocked them into the toilet. Not sure what happened to them. It’d be great if you could hook me up with a couple more dosages in case I do something like this again.”

Smythe’s heart sunk in his chest. He knew what was going on.

“Uh…” Smythe cleared his throat, “That’d be difficult, Gargan. They take a long time to manufacture.”

Gargan took another few steps forward, “I’m sure you could do it quickly for me, Doc.”

Finding himself not wanting to challenge his words, but pushing on anyway, he continued, “I’m sorry, Mr. Gargan. It’ll take a few weeks at the least. You’ll just have to cool it with the suit for now.”

“I can’t…” Gargan tried to protest.

“Besides,” Smythe shrugged, “It’d be good for you to forget about all this hero nonsense anyway. You might as well help us with tests and move on with your life. Sound like a deal?”

“Hero… nonsense?” Gargan sputtered out.

Again, something seemed to snap within Gargan.

“So you think what I’m doing is a joke?” Gargan asked him softly.

Smythe scoffed, “Not a joke by any means, but it’s worthless in the grand-”

Gargan lashed out, swiping the file of documents out of Smythe’s hands, wrapping his own paws around the doctor’s shoulders. He snarled in his face as he did. Smythe looked absolutely terrified.

“You think I’m a joke!” Gargan yelled.

“Let him go!”

Gargan and Smythe looked to the door to see his son, Alistair, holding a desk lamp as a weapon and trying to be strong for his father who is in an obviously vulnerable position. But that doesn’t mean anything to Gargan. No, Gargan just looked at him. And looked at him. And every once in a while, the image of Joseph Manfredi holding a gun would flash into his head.

“Run, Alistair! Run! RUN!”

Before Gargan knew what he was doing, he was moving toward Alistair the same way he would have moved toward Joseph. Moving his tail just like he did last night even though no bullets were being shot. And even though this college student tried to be strong in the face of adversity, he dropped the desk lamp, turned tail, and ran.

Or at least he tried to.

Gargan shot his tail out and wrapped it around the student’s abdomen. He lifted him high up into the air with his tail, the young man’s legs kicking in the air, trying to push off of something, anything to get free. But there was no escape from the vice grip. Not from the Scorpion.

“Alistair!”

_Crrruuuunch!_

“AAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHHH!” Alistair cried out as his spine was broken in two by Gargan’s tail clenching down onto him.

Gargan tossed him aside like garbage and looked back at Spencer, who was utterly speechless. But it didn’t last long as he began to feel despair, shaking with fury with every fiber of his being.

“ALISTAIR!” Smythe screeched and grabbed the desk lamp his son threw, attempting to sprint over and save his son.

_Chhshlunk!_

“Ah…”

_Bdlip… Bdlip… Bdlip…_

“Aghck… Eh…”

Gargan’s teeth were bared as his visor-clad face looked up at Dr. Smythe who was now impaled on his tail. Smythe tried to look at his son’s unconscious face one last time, but was unable to before death overtook his body, and he was lost, hanging limply in the air.

“Heh.”

_BWWAAAAAAA…! BWWAAAAAAA…! BWWAAAAAAA…!_

“CODE RED. ALL SYSTEMS AT LOCKDOWN. ALL HANDS PLEASE EVACUATE THE AREA UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL.”

The emergency evacuation protocol went off as heavy metal doors began dropping down all around Gargan, entrapping him in the room with the Smythes as the employees flee the building. Before long, the police arrive at the scene as well, with Captain George Stacy the first one at the scene. He barreled through the press to the group of evacuees.

“My daughter! Has anyone seen my daughter!?” George cried out, shaking people to no avail.

One intern walked up to him and told him, “I didn’t see her get out…”

“Are you telling me you people left her in there by herself!? With some crazed maniac on the loose!?” Stacy roared, but was pulled back by his officers, breaking away and yelling, “We have to save my daughter!”

~X~

And inside the building, a lone Gwen Stacy curled up into a ball in a ventilation shaft heard nearby grunts and angry words being thrown out by the maniac known as the Scorpion.

“Someone help me…” She whispered to herself under her breath.

~X~

“After this unfortunate incident, the current residents of the Research and Development department of Empire State University evacuated the premises. Except for one still unaccounted for. Highschool intern Gwen Stacy, who is reportedly trapped inside the building with no current way out,” The news caster read on the TV.

Holy shit.

I didn’t waste a moment’s notice, I rummaged through my bag, whipped out my costume, and leapt through my open window and out into the morning air to go save Gwen.

**To Be Continued…**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Woofh. Long chapter. Sorry for the long delay but you can see why. This takes a long time to write! But it was an important chapter. It reveals one of the main villains of the story. Obviously there are more to come, but this is the second biggest in the whole series, so watch out for him!
> 
> So many cameos and mentions this chapter! Lots of different characters and villains to come. The most obvious of them being the introduction of two other big villains! If you picked out all the cameos, let me know in a review.
> 
> Thanks,  
> Sam.

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my proudest works I've ever written. It's now well over novel-length and will continue on for a lot longer. When I finish this, there will be a spin-off sequel and an actual sequel. Stay tuned and I hope you love it!


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